Un-Titled
by Down By The River
Summary: True love is no fairy-tale.
1. Chapter 1

'This party is _boring_.'

Noah "Puck" Puckerman straightened suddenly at his friend's admission, loudly slapped a hand to his cheek and let his jaw go slack so it dangled open in mock surprise.

'Do you _think so_?' Puck asked in manufactured tones of wonderment. 'Stop the presses!' Puck exclaimed loudly, lowering his voice a moment later at Sam's whispered behest as he finished sarcastically. 'What a shocker! The posh little prince finds the lavish royal ball in his honour _boring_.'

Puck raised an eyebrow and socked Sam lightly in the arm. He gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes as he flopped back against the bar and, reaching out a long arm, managed to snag an hors d'oeurve off the tray of a passing waiter. A look of pure bliss came over his face after he popped it in his mouth and began chewing, and he was alert and scanning the room for his next opportunity to procure more before he'd even swallowed.

Sam stopped himself just short of folding his arms across his chest, remembering at the last minute that 'Princes did not do such things', and settled for shooting Puck a look of weary bemusement instead.

'You mean to tell me that you - of _all people,'_ Sam asked, looking pointedly at the self-proclaimed, _Party King,_ _'_ are actually having _fun_ at this thing?'

Puck shrugged, his eyes glued to the tray of a waiter who looked like he was going to pass close by. With a precision borne of years of practice, Puck leaned over at the perfect moment and grabbed another handful of the tiny treats from off the top of the tray without missing a beat.

'The food's good.' he allowed, popping another hors d'oeuvre into his mouth and swallowing. 'Not to mention it's entertaining watching you trying to dodge all the spoiled debutantes desperately gunning for their own, personal fairy tale with _you_ as their prince.'

The dark-haired man grinned without remorse as he tossed back his second to last hors d'ouvre and savoured it thoughtfully while Sam shifted uncomfortably at the truth of Puck's statement.

'Besides,' the olive-skinned man added as he polished off his last treat before straightening up against the bar. His eyes focused in on a flash of activity by one of the small service doors near the head of the ballroom that was being used by the Orchestra. 'I have a feeling things are about to get _way_ more interesting.'

Sam tried to see what Puck was looking at, but the dark-haired man quickly threw an arm around the young prince and steered him off in the opposite direction before Sam could get a glimpse of what was going on.

'What did you do, Puck?' Sam asked carefully, his apprehension only growing when Puck grinned, grabbed a glass of champagne from a conveniently passing tray and pressed it into Sam's hand while avoiding answering the question.

'I looked out for the happiness and wellbeing of my _best friend_ on his birthday.' Puck answered brightly, a wide smile plastered on his face - but his voice was too sweet, his expression too innocent, and Sam balked at the mischief Puck might have planned for the night.

'Ok, just… let me know now.' Sam started cautiously, 'Is it likely I'm going to have to spend my next year on a world-wide apology tour?'

'Pfft! You worry too much, you're so tense!'

Puck shrugged and moved his hands so he could give Sam's shoulders a "reassuring" massage. 'You'll be fine!… Probably… _Mostly_ … _we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.'_

Sam spun around so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash, his mouth already open ready to persuade Puck to maybe _reel back_ some of his plans, but Sam closed it again when he caught sight of a gorgeous dark-skinned girl that he'd never seen before and lost his train of thought.

She was standing in front of the orchestra at the head of the room and Sam couldn't keep his eyes off her. It wasn't hard to miss her, she stood out amongst the other elegant dignitaries for a whole host of reasons. One was that her dress, while pretty, was clearly nowhere near as expensive as the others currently being paraded around the luxurious ballroom, and it only came to her knees instead of cascading down to the floor like those of the other ladies in attendance.

Then there was the fact that the woman was also wearing ridiculous five inch heels, that Sam wasn't entirely convinced she'd be able to walk in. Even with the aid of those skyscraper heels, Sam noted that the woman was still rather short. She was probably around the same height as Sam's little sister, except Stacy was fourteen and this woman looked like she was, at most, only a few years younger than Sam's tender age of twenty-four.

A servant materialised as if from nowhere to place a microphone stand in front of the woman, and another appeared behind the first to carefully set about efficiently attaching a large number of wires to a small black box that was then placed on the ground directly in front of the woman. The servant who had brought on the mic stand was now busy attaching some sort of monitor to the woman's ear, being careful not to snag any of her long, glossy, dark curls as they went and Sam felt a momentary unfamiliar pang of jealousy towards the servants, that they were able to interact so freely with this mysterious woman while Sam himself was stuck watching from a distance and wondering at her identity.

Sam wanted to ask Puck if he had any idea who the girl was, but when he turned to question his friend Sam found that Puck was already gone. Sam scanned the large ballroom for his friend's familiar close cropped dark head to no avail, but Sam found him with his eyes a few moments later when his eyes had slid unbidden back to the beautiful, mystery woman on the dais.

Sam frowned when he realised that, while the servants had now disappeared, Puck was standing in their place and currently seemed to be engaged in some kind of disagreement with the woman. Puck looked annoyed and the girl was shaking her head, but beyond that Sam couldn't work out what was going on. When he saw Puck grab the girl's arm to tow her away, however, Sam found that he'd somehow managed to propel himself halfway across the ballroom in a matter of seconds and was now standing in front of the two with his disapproval etching wrinkles onto his face.

'Puck!' Sam's voice held a rarely-used tone of authority as he neared the two, and his eyes focused pointedly at his best friend's fingers wrapped around the woman's smooth brown skin until Puck caught on and let her go.

With that done, Sam turned back to the young woman with an apologetic smile. It faltered slightly when he realised how much prettier she was up close, but Sam recovered smoothly as she smiled tightly back at him.

'I'm sorry,' Sam began, pausing to bob his head courteously at the woman. 'My friend here seems to have forgotten that we _do not manhandle women_.' Sam shot Puck another reproachful look and turned back to the woman, holding out his hand for her to shake although as a prince he was generally discouraged from making such familiar gestures. 'I'm Sam…'

'Prince Samuel Garrett Fitzwilliam Evans.' The woman finished for him, apparently unaware that many a finishing school mistress would faint upon hearing her interrupt a prince so freely. 'I know who you are.' she smiled warmly up at him, and Sam felt his face split into his first genuine smile of the evening in response.

'Well, then, you find me at something of a disadvantage.' Sam suggested, his long fingers curling around the woman's small, soft hand in his. 'It seems that you know who _I_ am, but I don't yet know _you_.'

The woman smiled again and gracefully extracted her hand from Sam's grip, her eyes still lost somewhere in his as she answered.

'I'm your birthday present.'

She stopped and blinked for a moment, realising how that must have sounded and corrected herself, her face flushing at how her words could be misinterpreted.

'I mean, not in a… not in _that_ way. Just that, someone paid for me to perform here… as a present… to you.'

'And before you say anything, it _wasn't_ me.' Puck glowered as he reappeared at Sam's elbow and startled them both. Sam managed to keep the surprise off his face with some success, but he noted with interest that the woman wasn't as successful in her attempt. She wore her emotions on her face openly and Sam studied her for a moment in delight as he considered how _refreshing_ that was.

Apparently they'd both forgotten that Puck was even there.

'Um, _right_.' the woman agreed, taking a step away from both men after another long moment and fussing with her already perfect hair.

'Anyway, I should, um… go play.' she made to go back towards the microphone, but stopped abruptly after a few paces, her head snapping back around to face Sam as she realised something.

'Uh, if that's ok with you, I mean, Your Highness?' She affected a surprisingly impressive curtsy (especially on those heels) and Sam nodded, his face lighting up in amusement as the young woman blinked big, brown doe eyes at him, her straight, white smile dazzling him when she grinned her pleasure at his assent.

They were still smiling goofily at each other a few moments later, when Puck dragged Sam away from the stage so the woman could finally get on and perform. They'd started to attract attention by now, and Puck could see that some of Sam's snootier guests had begun to eye the woman on stage up and down, their eyes taking in every detail from her dark skin to her ample curves and the most intriguing and damning point of all - that she had been there all of five minutes and had apparently already begun to charm the Prince.

 _That had to hurt_ , Puck realised without much sympathy, especially for women who had spent much of their lives attempting to secure Sam for either themselves, or their over-entitled daughters. Yet here was this nobody in the wrong dress and shoes, making the Prince fall all over himself. Puck wasn't sure that _he_ liked this new development, but he could guarantee that the society women liked it less.

/

The woman on stage cleared her throat surreptitiously before licking her full lips and reaching up to adjust the microphone with slightly shaking hands as she prepared to start.

She didn't bother introducing herself. She had been going to, but then she'd seen the looks on the faces of some of these guests and decided that it would probably be more prudent if she didn't. Some of them had that vicious look about them, and she reasoned that they wouldn't be able to torment her if they didn't know who she was. Well, maybe they could, but she resolved not to make it easy for them anyway. She plastered a smile on her face instead and decided to forget the grumpy privileged types and just lose herself in the music. That's what they were paying her for anyway.

The woman tapped a panel on the black box in front of her a couple of times with her foot and an uptempo track echoed suddenly through the ballroom via the hidden speakers placed discreetly around the ballroom. Part of her was nervous about singing this kind of music in a room full of such refined people, but she'd also been told that the prince's favourite types of music were country and uptempo pop songs, and she'd been charged with the task of livening up what she'd been assured would be a 'snoozefest'. _Here goes nothing,_ she thought with a resigned sigh and started to sing.

 _Her voice was stunning_. So stunning that even the older men who usually just sat along the edges of the room nursing tumblers of dark spirits began to take notice of her.

Sam straightened when she began to sing, not just because she'd changed up the backing track and surprised him but, more than that, it was that the song she was singing had been one of Sam's favourites since he'd first found an old Whitney Houston album on vinyl in his father's study when he was four. It had been a long time since he'd heard the song, but as the mysterious woman continued to sing, Sam was reminded just how much he'd loved it.

 _How will I know if he really loves me?_

 _I say a prayer with every heartbeat_

 _I fall in love_

 _Whenever we meet_

 _I'm asking you,_

 _Cause you know about these things…_

Sam laughed in delight as the beat of the music combined with her voice and washed over him. Without much further thought, Sam grabbed for the hand of the nearest woman willing to dance with him, a Duchess in her forties, and spun her around the dance floor. She, and the other guests, seemed a bit unsure of how to dance to the song at first. It didn't exactly fit with the regimented dance styles they'd all been taught since birth, but they all seemed to get the hang of it after a while.

The woman on stage helped them all loosen up as she danced about on the raised platform, and even though he was dancing with the Duchess, Sam found that he had a hard time keeping his eyes of the unknown beauty. She moved like liquid, but she seemed completely unaware of how sexy she was. She was just enjoying the music, and Sam resolved to do the same, even though he threw in some of his patented body rolls towards the end just in case she chanced a look at him. Sam beamed to himself once the song finished and he scanned the ballroom behind him delighted to find that even some of the stuffiest of his guests had small smiles taking up residence on their faces.

The woman's eyes sparkled as she programmed the track for her next song. It was originally performed by a man so she'd had to do some arrangement on it, but she figured that if the prince's guests had liked her first song then they'd like her second. A servant appeared holding her acoustic guitar and she accepted it with a gracious smile and a nod of thanks before she slipped the instrument on over her shoulder and bent to make sure it was properly tuned.

Sam hadn't known his smile could get any wider, but then the woman had started to strum on her old beaten up electro-acoustic guitar and broken out into her next song.

The music was infectious, heck, _she_ was infectious, and even more people had come down onto the ballroom floor to try their hands at dancing without set steps. Sam had his dance partner stolen by her husband, so he pulled his little sister up out of her chair and laughed as she squealed delightedly as he spun and dipped her around the dance floor.

 _You're so delicious_

 _You're so…_

 _Soft._

 _Sweet on the tip of my tongue…_

Sam had never seen so many smiling faces at one of these functions before, and he was grateful that his sister's height allowed him to watch the woman without much difficulty. She was luminescent, magnetic, even, and Sam made a deal with himself that he would go and talk to her just as soon as she finished her set. He chuckled to himself as the woman pouted and did a little shoulder shimmy along to the music as she strummed away on her guitar and when the music stopped, Sam looked down to find his sister, Stacy, shooting him a knowing look.

She shook her head.

'You _would_.' she told him with a resigned shake of her head, releasing Sam's hands and stepping away from him with a subtle quirk of her eyebrow before she went off to go find her twin brother.

"I would' _what?'_ Sam muttered under his breath as he watched his sister walk away from him without so much as a backward glance. Shaking his head, Sam turned back to the stage just in time to hear the woman announce that her next song would be her last. There were groans of protest from amongst the guests, which seemed to both please and surprise her, and she curtsied graciously before wishing "Prince Samuel" a very happy birthday and launching into her final song. It was an unfamiliar country infused track with a ridiculously catchy hook that Sam felt strangely drawn to, especially when he picked out some of the lyrics she was singing.

 _Every king_

 _Has a cloud_

 _Where he wishes he'd built his castle_

 _Every brick_

 _Is made of stone_

 _but none has got his heart in_

 _Cause it ain't home_

 _It won't be home_

 _Til you find love…_

The woman curtseyed again for her applauding audience once the song was over, and then handed her things off to the servants who came to clear the stage. Sam waited patiently until she made her way out of the hallway and into one of the private back rooms behind the ballroom, and then politely excused himself to go after her.

/

By the time Sam actually managed to get away from the guests in the ballroom, however, the woman had already packed up and gone. Sam said a quick prayer and picked one of the many exits she could have taken, hoping against hope that he'd got the right one. If he'd made the wrong choice, it was likely that he'd never see her again, and for some reason, that thought bothered Sam more than it should've.

Sam allowed himself a grateful sigh of relief when he rounded a corner and caught sight of the woman taking the scenic route through the palace gardens back to the service entrance. She stopped when Sam called out to her, and he jogged to catch up with her, only realising once he'd got there that he had no idea what to do next. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels, completely forgetting the hours of lessons that were supposed to have trained him out of those things.

 _She looked really, really stunning in the moonlight,_ Sam thought. Her long, dark eyelashes looked even longer and darker beneath the shadows cast by the moonlight, and her hair looked almost blue where the light hit it. She looked ethereal, like some kind of fairy creature, and Sam had to surreptitiously pinch himself to make sure she was real and not just a figment of his imagination.

'That was a wonderful set.' he complimented after a long moment, and she offered him a shy, grateful smile of thanks.

'I'm pretty sure your voice is one of the most soothing sounds I've ever heard.'

She flushed at his praise, and trained her eyes on the low-lying flowers on the ground when she discovered that looking at him only caused her cheeks to get hotter.

'Thank you.'

'You're welcome.' Sam took a tentative step forward and cleared his throat, deftly avoiding the urge to consider _why_ he was doing what he was doing. 'You know, you could stay for the rest of the ball if you wanted to.'

Sam smiled in a way that he hoped was more reassuring than desperate, because despite himself he really didn't want to lose her just yet.

Her mouth dropped open to form a small, surprised 'o', but she closed it again a moment later with a sigh that sounded genuinely regretful.

'I can't.' she told him sadly, 'I have to get to another job, but thank you for inviting me.' She smiled warmly at him. 'That was kind.'

Sam snorted, a decidedly un-princely sound, and shrugged. 'There's nothing kind about it.' he answered honestly. 'I just want to spend more time with you.'

The woman studied him for a long moment as if trying to figure out whether he was making fun of her or not, but seemed to eventually decide that he was being genuine.

'You barely know me.' she protested lightly, the corners of her mouth twitching up in a smile, and Sam grinned unapologetically back at her with a shrug of his shoulders.

'Exactly.' he agreed merrily, 'I want to change that.'

A slow smile spread across the woman's face, but it faltered slightly when her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she outright frowned when she looked down and saw the message she'd received.

'I'm sorry.' she apologised with a resigned shrug once she'd looked up again. 'I have to get to work… but, it was lovely meeting you.'

'You too.' Sam agreed automatically, but he felt his heart beat pick up in a panic when he realised that she was leaving. 'Wait!'

He jogged to close the small distance that she'd managed to put between them and threw caution to the wind when he reached for, and caught, the hand that wasn't carrying her guitar case.

'Can you give me one dance?' Sam asked, aware that he was begging but not quite able to bring himself to let her walk away just yet. 'That's all I ask.'

She looked dubious, but her head tilted to the side pensively as she considered his request.

' _One_ dance?'

Sam nodded, shoving his suddenly sweaty palms into the pockets of his dress trousers as he waited for her decision. _Please say yes,_ he was thinking furiously, _please, please,_ please _say yes._

 _'_ it's also my birthday.' Sam added as an afterthought, thinking it was worth a shot to throw that card onto the table with the others. 'You know, if that means anything to you.'

She smirked and rolled her pretty brown eyes at him in amused exasperation, but then she bit one full, plump lip into her mouth and finally nodded.

'Just one, though.' she warned as she set down her guitar and stripped off the backpack she was wearing. 'And let me say this now: I don't mind being _late_ in honour of your birthday, Your Highness, but I draw the line at being fired.'

' _Sam._ ' Sam corrected, and then held his hands out to her, palms out, and bobbed his head in acquiescence, unable to keep the huge satisfied grin off his face. 'But that's fair enough.'

He stretched his arms out further in front of him and held his hands out to her, he felt the electricity tingle through his skin at the contact when she slipped her hands into his and allowed him to pull her close.

'Wait,' she asked after Sam had wrapped his arms around her soft curves and was holding her flush against his body. 'We're gonna dance here?'

'Yup.' She was so short, even in those heels, that Sam could easily prop his chin on the top of her head and breathe in her floral, comforting scent as he held her close. 'Why wouldn't we?'

Sam felt her laugh against his chest, and the vibration sent a warm, contented feeling shooting down his spine, and for the first time in a very long time, Sam realised that he was completely at peace.

'There's no music.' the woman pointed out and Sam tilted his head in contemplation for a few seconds before he lowered his head back down until his mouth was level with the woman's ear.

 _Why are there so many_

 _Songs about rainbows,_ he sang quietly in his soft, deep voice.

 _And what's on the other side?_

'The Muppets?' The woman asked in surprise as Sam gently spun her out and back in again in time to his singing.

'Kermit _the_ Frog.' Sam corrected in his best Kermit impression, and internally kicked himself for letting that slip. Dozens of tutors and advisors had warned him off doing his impressions, and usually Sam was pretty good about keeping them under wraps… but there was just something about this woman that made him feel completely comfortable, and it had just slipped out.

'Aw, _Kermy!'_ the woman retorted in a pretty decent Miss Piggy impression and obligingly pretended to snuggle lovingly against Sam's chest. She paused there for a moment, her breathing in sync with his, and Sam got the distinct impression that in that moment neither of them were pretending.

 _Someday you'll find it,_ Sam sang.

 _The rainbow connection…_

The pair slowed as the song came to a close, the woman singing a light harmony under Sam as he sang;

 _The lovers,_

 _The dreamers,_

 _And me…_

They pulled apart once the song was over, but kept hold of each other's hands as Sam led the curvy woman along the familiar paths of the palace gardens.

'Who would have guessed that you were a closet Muppets fan?' she said conversationally after they'd walked in silence for a while.

'Um… Everyone in the palace,' Sam put forward with a short, self-deprecating laugh. 'I was obsessed with that stuff when I was a kid, and I mean _obsessed.'_ he told her. _'_ I had the Muppets jammies, and the _lunchbox_ … I wouldn't go to sleep unless I had my stuffed Kermit and I went through a phase where I would watch the Muppet Treasure Island like, _every day_.' He smiled as the woman clapped her hands together in delight, but it didn't stop him from possessively recapturing her hand in his just as soon as she dropped it again.

'Pretty sure I can still quote the entire movie.' Sam added with a hint of pride in his voice.

'It's as dark a tale as was ever told, of the lust for treasure and the love of gooooold!' they both sang at once and then looked at each other in shocked silence.

'Well, hell!' the woman said after a pause before holding her free palm up for a high five. 'Great minds, right?'

'Yeah…' Sam agreed with a sidelong glance at her before he lifted his hand to slap against hers. 'I can't believe that out of the whole movie, we both quoted the _same part._ That's completely nuts.'

There was a beat of silence as they both contemplated that before the woman suddenly clasped a hand to her chest, and proclaimed in the most melodramatic, over the top voice she could muster, 'Clearly it was meant to be!'

'Written in the stars!' Sam added, following her lead and flinging his arm out wide beside him.

'Foretold in legend!

'Whispered by beggar women!' Sam added, but stopped when the woman fell against his chest in peals of laughter.

'Beggar women?' she asked around her giggles and peered up at him through mirthful tears. Sam couldn't help but laugh along with her as he lifted a hand to wipe away the stray tears that had escaped and trailed down her cheeks.

'There's a beggar woman in _Beauty and the Beast_.' he argued once they'd both calmed down some. 'I should know, I'm a prince, I pay particular attention to that kind of thing.'

That admission just set them both off into giggles again.

The two of them began walking again, with the woman pausing every so often to admire or smell flowers.

'You know, you aren't anything like how I imagined a prince to be.' she told him after they'd walked a little ways in silence. Sam smiled secretly to himself at her tone, most of his tutors had despaired of that fact, but this woman said it like a compliment - like it made him special.

And with her, Sam _felt_ like he was someone special, instead of like the failure everyone around him tended to make him out to be. For once in his life, Sam actually felt like he was _enough._

'You aren't exactly what I expected, either.' Sam admitted, and laughed when the woman pulled an outraged face.

'Well, what the heck did you expect me to be?' she demanded, not caring that she was technically meant to defer to a member of the monarchy, not argue with them.

Sam chuckled and looked sheepish. 'Well, my friend Puck is kind of a wild card, so when he told me he'd arranged some 'entertainment' part of me thought you would be a stripper. _Ouch!'_ Sam rubbed the spot on his chest where the woman had smacked him, although it had been perfunctory, and her hands were so tiny it hadn't really hurt. 'In my defense, I hadn't seen you then.' he added and then held up his hands in surrender when the woman just looked more scornful.

'I'm sorry! That came out wrong!' Sam ran a hand through his hair and tried to get his thoughts in order before he could ruin this any more than he already had.

'You're _completely_ gorgeous, but the women Puck tends to go for are… not really in your league.' Sam admitted honestly. 'You just seemed… special.'

She narrowed her eyes, but looked somewhat placated when she asked inquisitively, 'And now?'

'Now, I _know_ you're special.' Sam declared, and the two of them smiled softly at each other, their faces illuminated by a patch of moonlight that had found them between the rose bushes and a gently babbling stone fountain.

'Well, I think you're pretty special too.' The woman told him sweetly. 'You're kind of a dork prince, and I find that hopelessly endearing.'

'Why, thank you!' Sam doffed an invisible cap to her and she dutifully bobbed a curtsy in response, giggling when she came up again.

A shrill ring tone cut through the peaceful moment and the woman winced in apology as she fumbled in her pockets for the noisy device.

Her eyebrows joined together when she checked the caller ID and she shot Sam another apologetic look as she moved away from him to answer it, holding up a single finger to let him know that she'd only be a minute as she hit the button to answer.

'What's up, K?' There was muffled chatter on the other end of the line and Sam watched as the woman's eyes widened in shock. 'What? But it can't be! I swear I…' she pulled the phone away from her ear and checked the readout her face falling as she pressed the handset back to her head. 'I'm _so_ sorry, Kurt.' she apologised sincerely, and started to head back to where she'd left her things. 'No, I'm on my way now… I understand… I know, I owe you. _Bye_.'

She hung up the phone and turned to give Sam a look that confirmed everything he'd already discerned from her half of the phone conversation: She had to go.

'I'm sorry.' she told him again once they'd reached her things, and he could see the honesty shining in her eyes as she spoke.

'You have to go.' Sam stated with simple resignation, and she nodded. 'Will I get to see you again?'

The woman bit her lip, and Sam's heart sank when he realised that he could already tell what her answer would be.

'I don't think so.' she said finally, her voice belying far more regret than her words let on. 'Our worlds are so different…' she explained helplessly, her hands moving uselessly in the air around her as she tried and failed to expand her point.

'I think this is the only moment we're going to get.'

Sam nodded, knowing that her words were true and hating it. 'But you know,' she told him as she held out her hand for him to shake. 'I really am glad I met you' she smiled conspiratorially before adding '… _Sam.'_

 _'_ And I don't know _your_ name yet…' Sam allowed a pregnant pause to fill the air as he waited for the woman to give him her name, but as she opened her mouth to tell him, Puck's loud calls of Sam's name cut over the newly rebuilt peace and distracted them both.

'Just… one sec.' Sam pleaded with her, before he turned away from the woman and shout back that he'd be in in a moment.

' _What?!'_ Puck shouted back, and they could hear his heavy footfalls and crashes as Puck tried to make his way over to them.

'What the heck are you even _doing_ out here?' they could hear him grumbling, but they both ignored him as they locked eyes with each other for the final time.

'Just this moment, right?' Sam clarified, and when the woman nodded he leaned down and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to her lips, figuring that if this moment were all he had he was going to make the best of it. One of his large hands came to rest on the small of the woman's back, while the other stroked her hair and cupped the base of her skull as their lips moved insistently against each other. It felt like fireworks were shooting through them, sending shivers and tingles through all the places where they touched, and Sam felt her smile against his mouth as she pressed more firmly against him and licked the seam of his lips. They deepened the kiss, but could only enjoy it briefly before they reluctantly pulled apart.

'Wow.' the woman breathed after she'd had a second to get her thoughts back on track, 'wow'.

'Tell me what your name is,' Sam begged, but once again he was interrupted when Puck called out to him, this time accompanied by another voice.

'I…' Sam began, but what forced to stop when the shouts started up again. His eyes closed against the frustration of the situation as he sighed, turning back towards the sound of the voices Sam called out another response before returning his disappointed gaze to the woman's face.

'Hold that thought?'

The woman nodded numbly, but when Sam disappeared off to deal with Puck and his companion, the woman fell back to earth with a decidedly un-gentle bump. With a flash of unusual clarity, she was able to see that she was sitting, waiting for a prince that she would never be able to be with and would probably never even be able to see again after tonight. What made the whole thing worse, was that she was already late for her second job, and she was risking losing it with every extra minute she spent holed up in the palace waiting on a pipe dream.

The woman chewed her bottom lip repeatedly as she tried to figure out what to do, finally shaking her head regretfully as she stood up, ripped half a page of notation paper out of her notebook and scribbled a quick apology onto it. She secured the note under a stone on the lip of the fountain so Sam would be sure to see it when he returned and then went back to pick up her things. With one last, longing look up at the exquisitely lit palace, the woman made her way back down the garden path and out into the road to head off to her next job. The night had been incredible - far better than she could possibly have imagined - but fairy tales weren't real, and it was time for her to return to the real world.


	2. Chapter 2

'Finally!' Kurt greeted when Mercedes stepped through the kitchen door and dropped her guitar and backpack next to the entrance. Quickly shedding her outside clothes, Mercedes pulled an apron off a nearby hook and had it on and fastened seconds later. She swept her long hair up into a sloppy bun and held it in one hand as she searched her pockets with the other, scrambling for the hair tie that she could have _sworn_ was in there. After several frustrating minutes Mercedes was forced to admit that her hair tie was probably lying forgotten somewhere between the diner and the palace. Looking up with a heavy sigh, Mercedes found Kurt wordlessly holding one out to her, shooting him a grateful smile she quickly secured her hair and slipped an ugly regulation hairnet on top of it.

'Thanks.'

'Mmhm.' Kurt hummed and swanned off to grab a couple of orders that had just been filled. 'You always lose yours.' he told her affectionately as he expertly balanced the plates on his arms and backed through the saloon style doors into the main dining area.

'You owe me!'

'I know! _'_ Mercedes called back and went to join the other short-order cook, a pretty young woman of about Mercedes' age named Santana, in front of the grill.

'Sorry, San.' Mercedes apologised, but the woman just gave her an indifferent shrug.

'I'm not.' she admitted, 'I have a date on Friday. And she's cute, so I'm going to take my _whole extra hour_ and gets ma glam on.'

Mercedes nodded, smiling at Santana's obvious enthusiasm as she flipped a few vegan mushroom and soy burgers onto the grill.

She and Santana had long ago bonded over their mutual dislike of their manager, Rachel Berry, and had set up a system where they would cover for on another if they were late. They would just owe each other the extra minutes they'd worked on the others behalf.

Santana did a little celebratory shimmy at the development and plated a couple of portions of sweet potato fries, sliding the plates over when she was done so Mercedes could add the vegan burgers.

The diner they worked at was small, and rarely busy, but as it was one of the few eateries in the kingdom that specialised in Vegan food, they always had a steady stream of customers, and Mercedes figured that putting up with Rachel was a small price to pay for not having to come home stinking of frying oil and grilled meat every day.

Mercedes thought back to the refined courtiers who had graced Sam's ball, and their expensive gowns and custom perfumes… She slid the filled food orders across the counter for Kurt to pick up and sighed to herself.

 _If they could see you now, Miss Jones._

 _/_

'So, I'm going to need you to tell me why you were so late last night.' Kurt insisted the following morning as he ladled his unusual breakfast of dry cereal moistened slightly with a honey and hot water mix into his mouth. Once again someone had forgotten to buy the milk, and so now they were all being forced to make do. He and Mercedes shared their paltry apartment with two other people, but luckily they all seemed to get along ok - except for the times they argued about people using the last of the milk and forgetting to buy more.

A small smile ghosted over Mercedes' lips as she thought back to the amazing time she'd had performing at the palace, and then afterwards strolling hand-in-hand around the gardens with Sam - _Prince Samuel,_ she corrected - bathed in moonlight. It had been the most magical experience of Mercedes' life, and although ordinarily she would usually be itching to dissect her gigs with Kurt, just this once she wanted to keep the experience to herself. She wanted to keep her memories of the night pure and unblemished, so she could think back on them without having to also relive someone else's cynicism. _No,_ Mercedes decided, _this would be her one secret and she would hold it close to her heart, where no one else could get at it to destroy it._

'My other job ran over.' she told Kurt instead, with what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug. 'Thanks for covering for me.' she said, leaning over to pat Kurt's leg as she changed the subject. 'I'm pretty sure Rachel would have fired me if it hadn't have been for you and Santana.'

Kurt nodded, not bothering to deny it as he chewed and swallowed another bite of cereal.

'You know Berry hates you.' he said frankly, 'and it's not like you to give her an excuse to ride you any harder than she already does.' Kurt added, one of his delicately arched eyebrows raised in silent question. 'You're not telling me something.'

Mercedes sighed and dropped her head onto the back of the old overstuffed couch they'd managed to get cheap from a thrift store. She'd forgotten that she could never lie to Kurt. Actually, Mercedes admitted to herself, she was a pretty horrible liar in general.

'You're right. I'm not telling you something, but that's because I really just want to keep it for me. Is that ok?'

Kurt eyed her inquisitively for a moment, as if hoping that he could somehow develop mind-reading capabilities and pluck the truth straight out of her head. He held out for a few seconds longer, but then nodded and heaved a deep, resigned sigh. 'I'm even _more_ curious now.' he told her truthfully, 'but I'll leave it alone.'

Mercedes smiled thankfully at her friend, and felt her mind going traitorously back to replay those moments; the way Sam had looked at her, and the memory of how his hand had felt in hers…

 _Stop it_ , Mercedes told herself firmly. Sam was a _prince_ , and she was just a regular girl trying to get by while she figured out her place in the world.

 _Fairy tales don't exist,_ Mercedes reminded herself again as she dropped a hand to Kurt's knee and gave it a friendly squeeze before she got up and went to get ready for her day job.

/

Prince Samuel Garrett Fitzwilliam Evans woke up and stared at the high, ornately carved robin's egg blue and gold ceiling above his bed for a few long moments as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and tried to figure out if he'd dreamed the events of last night up or not.

Sam _thought_ that he'd had a surprisingly awesome birthday. He remembered meeting the most amazing woman at the ball and walking with her under the stars as they'd talked about the kinds of things almost everyone else in his life tended to frown on him for. He remembered her laughing at his impressions, and the way her small hand had felt nestled inside his… Sam remembered how her body had melted into his when they'd kissed, and the taste of her lips against his… it had been perfect. So perfect that Sam was having a tough time believing that it had been real, that he'd really felt those feelings…

Then Sam remembered what had come _after_ those perfect moments. He'd left her in the garden to go deal with Puck, and by the time he'd come back a few minutes later she was gone. Sam closed his eyes again, squeezing them shut before opening them again in the futile hope that he would find that the last part had only been a product of a sabotaging mind. Sam wanted to believe that he would find her number in his phone, or her face a regular fixture in his life - but he knew that he wouldn't.

He hadn't even managed to get her _name._

Sam groaned and rolled over in the huge bed that he slept in alone. He never slept in the middle, which made things feel all the more lonely when he would roll over in the mornings and see the empty space next to him. This time, Sam rolled over and caught sight of the note the woman had left him. It was one of the few indicators Sam had that she _hadn't_ been a dream, and even though he knew the contents of the note weren't exactly _good,_ he was nonetheless glad for evidence that he _hadn't_ just made up the perfect woman for himself in a fit of delusion.

 _I'm sorry,_ Sam re-read, although he already knew what it said. ' _I have to go, but I wanted you to know that this has been one of the most wonderful nights of my life, and I will never forget it. Thank you, Sam._

That had been it. There was no name and no indicator of who the woman was or where she'd gone.

Sam didn't even know who had _hired_ her.

He dropped an arm over his eyes and told himself to just forget about her, but the task was much easier said than done. Sam had made a connection with this woman, one that he'd never had before, not with all the people he'd met and all the small talk he'd been forced to make. He didn't know much about her, but he knew that she had been _different._

Sam sighed and rolled out of bed to get ready for the day. Whether or not he'd ever get to see his woman again had no bearing on the fact that he still had official duties to attend to. He had a school to open, a charity to visit and an appearance at a hospital. He also had to tour the airforce base where he would be serving (part time of course) for the next year, having completed his army training the year before. Sam scrubbed a hand through his hair and dropped his elbows to his knees for a minute as he took a deep breath and tried to collect his thoughts into some sort of order, and laughed to himself when the memory of the woman saying "I'm your birthday present" and getting adorably flustered afterwards came floating back to him.

Maybe she _had_ been his birthday present, Sam reflected. He'd been allowed to feel complete, content and normal for one day, and it had been incredible, _beyond_ incredible, even… But now Sam's birthday was over, and it was time for the real work to begin.


	3. Chapter 3

_Two months,_ Mercedes thought with annoyance as she slotted another plate into the diner dishwasher. It had been _two months_ and she was _still_ thinking about Sam.

It was stupid; she knew that, especially when she _also_ knew that there was no _way_ Prince Samuel was still thinking about _her_.

He would probably have forgotten her name by now, Mercedes reasoned as she distractedly loaded in the cutlery. That is, he would have if he'd even known it in the first place.

Mercedes closed her eyes against the thought and then felt stupid for even thinking it. As if Sam knowing her name would have made any difference! Mercedes was probably nothing more than a hazy memory to him now, and she decided then and there that she would work on making him the same. His face might be in all the magazines, but that didn't mean that she had to read them. In fact, Mercedes decided, she would avoid magazine racks and newspaper stands altogether. It wasn't like she had the time to read them anyway. _Yes,_ Mercedes nodded decisively to no one in particular, she would go cold turkey on Prince Samuel and flush him out of her system once and for all.

Mercedes didn't realise that she'd begun humming _Rainbow Connection_ to herself under her breath as she'd finished loading the dishwasher, or the fact that by the time she'd switched the machine on she had a foolishly happy smile on her face.

/

'Oh my god, are you drawing her _again.'_ Puck demanded after he'd peered over Sam's shoulder to find out what was distracting his friend from their conversation.

'Dude, it's been _months_ , you need to get over her already. She's _just a singer_.'

'She's _not_ just a singer.' Sam answered without looking up from his sketchpad. He and Puck had been over this same exact conversation at least a dozen times since Sam's birthday two months ago, and it always ended up in a stalemate.

Sam could forgive Puck for dismissing the woman, who he'd taken to calling Lark on account of her amazing voice. Sam hadn't told Puck about what had gone on in the palace gardens, but he was fairly certain that Puck suspected _something_. The man kept saying things like ' _she's just a singer_ ' in the hopes that Sam would finally snap and let slip what went down. So far it wasn't working.

Sam was shading in a section of Lark's hair, trying to capture the exact way it had shimmered in the moonlight, when a manservant appeared at his door and announced that Sam was wanted for an audience with his parents. That was how the manservant said it too: 'Prince Samuel's presence is requested for an audience with the King and Queen', as if it wouldn't have been easier to just tell Sam that his parents wanted to see him.

'Fine.' Sam sighed and put his sketchpad to one side before rising to follow the servant out. He cut a look at Puck as he passed, but his friend made no move to get up from where he was slouched on Sam's couch. Used to Puck's ways, Sam just shrugged and decided to leave his friend where he was.

' _Sam_.'

Sam's mother rose almost as soon as Sam stepped through the door and leaned over to kiss him with the kind of studied grace that only the most expensive finishing school in the world could provide.

Sam accepted her kiss on the cheek and clasped his father's hand before they all moved to the comfortable chairs in the centre of the lavish receiving room to sit.

'You rang?' Sam said in his best Lurch impression and chuckled at his own joke while his parents exchanged confused looks between them.

'Quite.' Sam's mother said after a moment before tastefully changing the subject. 'Tea?'

'No, thank you.' Sam responded, sobering quickly once it became clear that impressions were still not the done thing. No one ever really seemed to get them anyway, he told himself in a useless attempt at comfort. Except for _her_ , of course.

Sam sighed and shook his head, as if doing so would shake away all thoughts of her. It wouldn't of course, Sam knew that. Nothing ever did.

'You wanted to see me?'

Sam watched his parents exchange another glance and began to feel uneasy. Whatever it was he'd been called her for, the fact that his parents looked so nervous about it made Sam almost certain that it wouldn't bode well for him.

'Sam,' his father began with more than a little trepidation. 'Samuel… there's a matter that we need to discuss now that you're old enough to truly appreciate it…' he looked to his wife for reassurance and she nodded, urging him to go on.

'It's about marriage, son.' the King said finally. 'It's time for you to choose a wife.'

There was a pregnant pause during which all three of them looked at each other, Sam's parents wore near identical pinched expressions while Sam looked dubiously between the two of them as their words sank in.

The king and queen jumped when Sam burst out laughing and then exchanged startled looks with each other. This was _not_ the reaction they had expected.

Sam hadn't known his parents to be practical jokers, but he could admit that they'd really had him going with the official sounding summons and the colluding glances. He wiped a tear from his eye with the back of his hand and beamed at them both.

'Wow, you know I actually…' Sam shook his head in amusement as he chuckled again. 'You got me on that one!' he congratulated them. 'But I'm pretty sure you need to be with someone in order to get married, and I'm not in love with anyone so…' his mind flashed briefly to the image of Lark standing against the backdrop of the fountain, but he pushed it away. He couldn't be in _love_ with her. Attracted? definitely, but in _love?_

'Actually…' the King continued, but the Queen interjected, sensing this was not going the right way.

'There's a law that states that in order to be considered eligible for the throne, any man who might someday be king must be married by his twenty-fifth birthday.' she told him simply, deciding to just go for the blunt approach. 'And you're twenty-four, Sam.'

The serious tone in his mother's voice killed Sam's laughter stone dead, and he began to consider the possibility that this might not be the elaborate hoax he'd at first assumed… But what they were saying was _insane_. Surely Sam would have heard something before now if it were true? His eyes flicked between the two people sitting in front of him as Sam searched their faces for a clue that they were having him on.

There wasn't one.

'How long has this been a law?' Sam asked finally, his throat feeling like sandpaper as he choked out the words. His parents looked sheepish.

'Since 1122.' The King informed his shell-shocked son. 'It's a very old, but quiet tradition.'

'Since…' Sam echoed, and then swallowed in disbelief. 'You mean to say,' he began dangerously. 'That this is something you've known about my _entire_ life… and yet, you've only _just_ deigned to tell me?'

'Well…' his father spluttered and then turned to his wife for some kind of rescue. 'It's just that… um…'

'We thought it would be better for you if you didn't know for a while.' his mother filled in, looping a hand through her husband's arm. 'We didn't want you to have that kind of pressure-'

'So you decided that it would be better to heap all that pressure into the year - no, sorry!' Sam corrected himself sarcastically. 'Into the _ten months_ before I turn twenty-five? Do you honestly think that's enough time to make a decision like that, Mother?'

Sam's mother sat back in her chair, her jaw tightening in displeasure at Sam's tone.

'You've already _met_ all the most eligible women in the kingdom, _Samuel_.' she bristled, using Sam's full name to let him know that he was on thin ice with her. 'You just have to _pick one_.'

'I don't _want_ to pick one!' Sam shot back angrily, his voice rising as he spoke. 'I mean, holy _shit,_ Mother!'

' _Samuel!'_ The Queen exclaimed, looking scandalised by her son's tone of voice and choice of language.

'Alright, that's enough.' Sam's father cut in in an attempt to diffuse the situation before it could get out of hand. 'Sam, I understand that this is quite a bombshell, but believe me when I say that your mother and I truly believe that we were acting in your best interests.'

Sam bit back the urge to tell him that they'd obviously made the wrong call and nodded.

'Right.' he said, his voice flat as he stood to leave without being dismissed. 'Well, forgive me if I don't agree.' he told them bitterly. 'Please excuse me, I would stay but it would seem I don't have any time to waste.'

Sam walked rigidly to the door and yanked it open, too desperate to remove himself from his parents' company to wait for a servant to come and open it for him. Sam strode the passageways to his rooms with his mind dwelling on the shocking news, and by the time he'd reached the door to his suite Sam had come up with a plan of action.

Sam didn't want any of the women his mother had deemed 'eligible', and he honestly couldn't see himself being married to them. Some of them were nice, but they were all more interested in _Prince Samuel_ than _Sam_. Most of them pulled faces when Sam tried to be himself with them, and Sam suspected that the ones that didn't were just too polite to do so.

In truth, Sam had only ever met one woman who he could even _imagine_ marrying… and he didn't even know her name.

'Puck?' Sam called out as he stepped through his door and looked around his foyer for his best friend. 'You still here?'

'Yeah.'

Sam followed the sound of Puck's voice to the living room and found his friend lounging on the couch watching a movie on Sam's large, wall-mounted flatscreen.

'How did everything go with the parentals?' Puck asked without interested as he reached for the remote and flipped off the television.

'I have to get married by the time I'm twenty-five.' Sam explained, his voice void of any emotion. Puck, on the other hand, looked like he was about to hyperventilate.

'What? Why? Wh- Wh-, _WHO?'_

The dark haired man looked up, caught the glint in his friend's eye, and automatically knew what Sam's answer would be.

'Dude, _seriously?!'_ Puck demanded with incredulity, his voice pitched perilously high as he tried to take in all this information at once. 'You talked to her for like _twenty minutes.'_

'I know.' Sam admitted with a shrug as he came to flop down in the couch across from Puck.

'But when my parents started talking marriage, she was the only one I thought of.' he told his friend. 'I know it sounds crazy, but… I think she's it.' He gave Puck a palms up. 'When you know, you know, right?' he asked rhetorically.

Puck groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face, somehow knowing that this was going to mean a lot of work for them both.

' _Fine.'_ he agreed finally, huffing the word out on a breath. 'So what now?'

Sam shot Puck a wide, toothy grin, feeling secretly relieved to have his best friend on board.

'Now we have to _find_ her.'


	4. Chapter 4

'I'm really, really going to miss our TV.' Tina said as she watched it being towed out the door.

'None of us were ever around to watch it.' Quinn pointed out, and Tina sighed in acknowledgement.

'I _know,'_ she agreed sadly, _'_ but I liked having the option.'

'Well, the _option_ was costing us an extra twenty dollars per month.' Kurt pointed out, and Mercedes nodded.

'I'm sure you'll feel better about the TV when you have that extra money in your purse.'

'Yeah…' Tina sighed again and then went back into their apartment to flop down on the couch. 'I guess this means I'll actually have to talk to you losers now though.'

Tina grinned as Quinn tossed a throw pillow at her head, catching the offending item before it could make impact.

'Why, thank you.' Tina shot the blonde a cavalier grin as she raised the pillow in toast, propped it up against Kurt's lap and rested her head on it.

'Well, Tina has a point.' Quinn agreed after sticking her tongue out at her friend. Curling up against Mercedes' side on the other mismatched couch she added, 'You guys are my best friends in the whole world, but I feel like I see you the least out of everybody.'

'Oh, to be rich!' Kurt quipped and Mercedes screwed her nose up in disagreement.

'I'm not sure that being rich is really all that great.' she told them all with a thoughtful look on her face. 'Most of the rich people at that gig I played seemed kinda miserable. It's like they were cash rich, but… happiness poor, you know?'

Quinn nodded against Mercedes' shoulder and picked up her hand intertwine the other girl's fingers with hers.

'You know, you never told us about that gig, Merce.' Quinn pointed out curiously as she admired Mercedes' smooth, soft skin.

'She won't tell _anyone_ about that gig.' Kurt interrupted before Mercedes could say anything. 'Believe me, I've _tried_.'

Quinn turned curious eyes to the girl beside her, and even Tina shifted in Kurt's lap to eye their resident songstress.

'Was it something bad?' Tina asked, a note of steel putting a dangerous edge in her voice. 'Because I don't care _how_ rich they are, if they hurt my Mercy, then I won't show them any.'

Mercedes felt a swelling in her chest as her friends all nodded their agreement, looking about as intimidating as a box full of puppies.

'It's fine. No one hurt me.' she promised smiling warmly at them all. 'It was actually really good. I just want to keep it perfect in my head.' she explained. 'I feel like telling people might ruin it.'

There was a moment where no one said anything, and then Tina nodded and relaxed against Kurt again.

'Ok. I can live with that.' She told them. 'As long as you're happy then I'm happy.' She finished, shooting Mercedes a sleepy smile as she stifled a yawn.

'I am happy.' Mercedes told them, hoping to convince herself as much as everyone else. She _was_ happy - in a way - it was just that she'd been _happier_ not so long ago, and even though she'd only spent a short time with Sam, she found that she missed him everyday.

That thought alone was threatening her happiness.

Mercedes had never been one to buy into the fairytale. Even when she was small, she'd never put as much stock in the idea of someone coming to 'save her' as the other kids did. She'd believed in earning her achievements even then, and the idea of some guy on a white horse swooping in to save her with his wealth and status had never really appealed to her.

That was why it was so _annoying_ that she couldn't seem to get Sam out of her head.

Mercedes wasn't one of those girls who dreamed of castles and princes, she didn't _believe_ in fairy tales. So _why_ did her subconscious keep trying to cast her in one?


	5. Chapter 5

'I'm really nervous.' Sam admitted to Puck as the sound technician pinned a microphone to his shirt with shaking fingers. She smiled apologetically at Sam and he smiled back automatically, but his thoughts were already on the interview he was about to give.

He was about to go in front of the world and put himself on the line. It was just about the most reckless thing he had ever done, and Sam was grateful that his parents hadn't managed to find out what he was planning in time to stop him. No doubt they wouldn't have approved.

'You sure you want to do this?' Puck asked, watching the blond forcing deep breaths in the chair. 'There's still time for you to back out.' he insisted. 'You could just talk about one of your charities or something.'

Sam stared at his reflection in the big mirror in front of his chair and wondered if maybe he _should_ just let the whole thing go. There _were_ plenty of other women that would happily marry Sam in a heartbeat… but, Sam countered internally, there _weren't_ a lot of women Sam would be happy to marry. He shook his head and let out another breath.

'You asked me if I'd be willing to put myself on the line to find her,' Sam reminded his best friend. 'I wasn't lying when I said yes.'

Puck studied his friend closely for a moment and then held his fist out for Sam to bump with his own.

'Alright, dude.' Puck accepted. 'Let's _do this.'_

Puck leaned over to ruffle Sam's hair, but stopped when he caught the evil eye the on-set hairdresser was fixing him with. He carefully drew his hand back when the woman snapped her still steaming GHD's at him and decided that now was as good a time as any to check everything was ok with the reporter.

Puck had arranged this interview, and with any luck it would get them the information they needed. Who knows, Sam thought as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, maybe Lark would see this thing _herself_ and come find _him_. He knew that in the stories the prince always came and found the princess, but Sam had always secretly thought that those stories didn't give the women enough credit. He suspected that most of those women would be just fine without a prince trampling in and insisting that his way was better. Sam had always tried not to be like that, but more often than not that just disappointed _more_ people. It seemed like Sam couldn't win, and he hoped that he wasn't shooting himself in the foot with this interview. His palms started to sweat at the possibility, and when Sam's phone buzzed he almost dropped it when he went to pick it up.

It was a message from his little brother Stevie asking where Sam was, but he chose not to answer it until after the interview was over. He didn't think his younger siblings would tell anyone his location, but Sam figured it was better to be safe than sorry. If they let something slip to the wrong person, however accidentally, then Sam would be stuck in the same position he'd been in before. Only it would be worse, because then his parents would know what he was trying to do.

A young man with short dark hair and thick rimmed glasses appeared in the doorway and hovered there for a minute, looking like he wasn't sure what to do etiquette-wise in this situation. The royals didn't often give interviews with the media - they usually communicated everything they wanted to say via carefully worded press releases - so interviews like Sam's were almost completely unprecedented. The team who had landed the gig were excited to have such a rare exclusive opportunity, but it did mean that the pressure to make things perfect was intense, and the backstage crew were all extra nervous when dealing with Sam as a result. After a brief moment of internal struggle the assistant finally swallowed hard and spoke.

'We're ready for you, Your Highness.'

Sam nodded and stood up to follow the assistant out into the room where they'd be conducting the interview, pausing in the doorway to shoot Puck a closed-mouth smile as he passed. Sam was careful to avoid running his hands through his hair or rubbing his face, knowing that he would mess up the hard work of the hair and make up team if he did, so he smiled politely at the women who had worked on him as he passed, trying to keep his nerves in check. Sam wordlessly followed the young man down another hallway completely oblivious to the way the news team near melted and fanned themselves as Sam made his way into the room where the interview was being conducted.

Sam kissed the female interviewer's hand politely and gestured for her to sit first, and although she seemed to want to wait for him, she didn't argue and sat down obligingly, folding one leg delicately over the other as she waited for Sam to follow suit. Sam sank into the comfortable chair that had been put out to make the room seem more casual and dropped his hands to his knees, taking the opportunity to take a deep breath before the cameras were turned on him.

/

The reporter, a woman by the name of Sylvie Westren, did her opening patter to the camera before turning around to face Sam again with a well-practiced smile.

'Now, I'm told that you're here for a very specific reason, Your Highness.' She said, expertly towing the thin line between conversational and respectful. 'Perhaps you could fill us in?'

She was really very good, the interviewer, Sam thought. You could barely hear that weird reverential tone in her voice that people tended to put on when they spoke to him or members of his family. It made Sam feel marginally more relaxed, and he let out a stream or breath before he nodded and explained what he was doing there.

'I'm looking for a woman.' he told her carefully, and he could see the brief widening of her eyes as she took in this news. Evidently, Puck hadn't explained _exactly_ what was going on to the news team, but Sylvie smoothly covered her surprise at Sam's words and continued as if she'd known all along.

'Any particular woman?' she asked conversationally before letting out a small laugh. 'I'm fairly certain that there are a lot of women in the kingdom hoping you'll find them!'

Sam laughed along with her and then shook his head, the smile turning wistful on his face.

'Um, actually, it's one woman in particular. I met her on my birthday, and now I'm hoping to find her again.'

Sam could practically see the word 'Scoop' flashing in Sylvie's eyes like the dollar signs in cartoons, and she leaned fractionally closer to him to ask more questions.

'Do you have any information about her?' she asked, genuinely curious, 'A name, a date of birth, the city she lives in, maybe?'

Sam shook his head to every question. 'I don't have any information on her at all.' he sighed with regret as his mind drifted back to that night with her, completely unaware at the faint smile that was now tugging at his lips.

'She left before I could get any of that information from her.' Sam admitted, 'All I know is the way she makes me feel, that she has the most beautiful singing voice and great taste in movies… and that I want to see her again.' he shrugged bashfully as a crimson blush spread over his cheeks. 'Goodness, that sounds so much mushier when you say it out loud doesn't it?'

Sylvie looked enchanted as she listened attentively to what Sam was saying and she shook her head adamantly at his final question.

'It does not.' she assured him firmly, momentarily forgetting that she was talking to a prince. 'I've been told you've brought along a sketch of her?'

Sam nodded again and tried to surreptitiously wipe his sweaty palms on his trousers, realising too late that his deportment coach would be fit to spit over the action. _Should have worn the gloves,_ Sam thought ruefully.

'I did.' he told Sylvie with an endearingly self-deprecating laugh as he nodded. 'I warn you now that it's not the best, but…' Sam gave a small shrug and then remembered that he wasn't meant to do _that_ either. 'It's the best I can do. All I can say is that it looks _kinda_ like her.' Sam winced slightly as a scan of one of his many drawings of Lark came up on screen. It didn't capture the light in her eyes very well, or the brightness that seemed to shine from her when she smiled, but he hoped it was close enough for _someone_ to recognise her.

'You drew that?' Sylvie asked sounding genuinely impressed once the image had come down off the screen. When Sam blushed and nodded she smiled politely and said, 'Well, you're very talented, Your Highness.'

Sam dropped his eyes to the floor and thanked her as the blush crept ever higher up his cheeks. Sam took a moment to compose himself before he raised his lashes to look at Sylvie again.

Sylvie Westren had been delighted when she'd heard that Sam wanted to do a sit down interview with _her_ , of all people, but she wanted to marry him _herself_ the more he continued talking. The stuff he was giving her was _gold._ Pure _gold._

 _Prince Samuel was giving her the scoop on a real-life fairy tale! He'd met this woman once at a ball and then fallen for her. Ok, well, maybe not **fallen** for her,_ Sylvie corrected herself - _but that didn't really matter, the prince had made enough of a connection with this woman that he'd decided to come on national television in the hopes that he'd find her again. Besides_, Sylvie reasoned, _it would be "love" by the time the rest of the media got their grubby little hands on it anyway._

The whole thing was pretty damned romantic, if you asked her, and on top of that, the prince came across very well with his blushing and his self-deprecating smiles and sweetness. The monarchy had tended to come across as rather elitist and distant in the past, but Sylvie had a feeling that Prince Samuel could change that - _would_ change that - if he continued his quest for this girl. Sylvie had even felt _herself_ warming to him, despite the fact that she was a hardened reporter and old enough to be the man's mother. Of course, there was also the fact that he'd gifted her with the scoop of a lifetime. What self-respecting reporter wouldn't love him for _that_?

'One more question before you go, Your Highness.' Sylvie posited carefully, her perfectly coiffed head inclined towards Sam at just the right angle to seem friendly without being pushy.

'Why is it so important that you find this girl?'

She watched as Sam froze for a moment and then took a deep breath as he considered his answer. That was the other thing she liked about the prince, Sylvie decided. He thought about his answers, but they weren't press bites fed to him by some PR agent. Without realising, Sylvie had leaned in closer as she waited to hear what he had to say.

'I suppose, because…' Sam began, his eyes on the coffee table between them as he tried to sort out his words. 'Because one moment with her didn't feel like enough.' Sam said, his eyes steady on the table as he spoke. 'And because I can't just accept that two different worlds are untraversable without at least looking for a bridge.'

'And if you don't find one?' Sylvie asked curiously, and Sam smiled delicately to himself as he thought about the answer.

'Then I guess I'll have to build one.' he said finally looking up to fix Sylvie with hopeful smile. 'Or I can try, right?'


	6. Chapter 6

'Oh my God.' Quinn wailed when she came in, making a beeline straight over to the couch and flopping onto it face first. 'I'm so tired! I feel like all I've done is work, sleep and eat, but the eating and sleeping is rare.'

'Join the club.' Kurt contributed from where he was lying on the floor with his head in Mercedes' lap. 'I don't remember the last time I even had a conversation with you guys that lasted this long.'

'It was when we lost the TV.' Tina reminded him as she walked in from the small kitchen holding a tray of water glasses. 'I remember because we said it would mean we'd talk more.'

Mercedes scoffed and leaned back on her hands, shifting slightly so she could use one to accept the water Tina handed her.

'That worked out well.'

'I also remember being told that I'd actually _see_ that $20 in my purse every month.' Tina added, flopping down dramatically on the opposite couch while wailing. 'It was all a lie!'

'But you haven't missed the TV though.' Quinn pointed out, which earned her a pillow to the butt. 'Well you _haven't!'_ she explained indignantly. 'We've been tv-less for like…'

'A month and a half.' Mercedes supplied quietly, trying not to think about _why_ she knew exactly how long it had been.

'A month and a half - thank you Mercedes.' Quinn finished. 'And you didn't miss it.'

Tina made a noise that clearly meant that she knew Quinn was right but didn't want to admit it.

'Whatever.' Tina shrugged and turned her attention to her unusually subdued friend in the corner. Mercedes seemed to be lost in her own thoughts and Tina sighed as she watched her for a moment. Mercedes had been different for a few months now, and no one could quite figure out why. Kurt insisted it had something to do with the ridiculously well-paid gig Mercy had gotten performing for those high-society types all those months ago, but Tina wasn't as sure. Mercedes insisted that she'd had fun, so why would she be moping about it at _all,_ let alone almost four months after the fact? It just didn't make a lot of sense to Tina. There _had_ to be something else.

'How have you been, Merce?' she asked, wondering if today would be the day that Mercedes finally stopped pretending everything was fine and just told them everything.

'Hmm?' Mercedes turned back to the group, aware that someone had said something to her, but not entirely sure what it was. 'What did you say?'

'We asked how you've been.' Kurt filled in, his voice holding a note of impatience as he looked up at his increasingly spacey best friend.

'What's going on with you lately, M.J?' Quinn asked in a much kinder voice. 'It seems like every time we talk to you you're somewhere else. Where do you go?'

Mercedes frowned and then plastered a fake smile on her face. 'Nowhere.' she lied. 'Just lost in my own thoughts, I guess.'

Tina and Quinn exchanged dubious looks, but Kurt had evidently had enough, and he showed it by unrepentantly scoffing out the word, 'Bullshit.'

' _Kurt!'_

'Oh come _on!'_ Kurt defended, 'She's been in this weird, distracted funk since that gig she played, and I swear to God,' he said turning his attention back to Mercedes, 'if I hear you hum another melancholy version of _Rainbow Connection_ I'm going to throw myself off a bridge. So I think it's time you came clean. What. The _hell_. Happened.'

\

Sam paced the carpet in his living room, flipping a pen he'd found on the coffee table back and forth agitatedly in his fingers as he spoke.

'So, there's no news?'

Puck sat splayed and unmoving on one of the couches lining the room as he followed Sam's pacing without moving his head.

'No.'

Puck sighed and leaned forward, dropping his elbows to his knees as he prepared to catch Sam up on the few developments they'd had since the young prince had last asked the day before.

'We had a guy call say she used to sing outside his store, but he asked her to move on and he hasn't seen her since.' Sam stopped and turned to look expectantly at Puck, but the man shook his head, already pre-empting what Sam's next question would be.

'He didn't get a name, and he didn't know where she went to.' Sam let out a heavy, disappointed sigh and threw himself on a neighbouring couch with a groan.

'How do you turn away an angel from your door?' he asked, his voice muffled slightly by the plush pilllows under his face.'How could you hear her sing and _not_ want her to be there?'

Puck narrowed his eyes at his friend and noted Sam's still jittering foot.

'He said people were stopping outside to hear her and forgetting to come in, or deciding not to buy stuff in favour of going out to see the performances.' Puck shrugged again, 'How many coffees have you had?'

Sam flipped over on the couch and raised his arms heavenward in an 'Who knows' gesture.

'Four… Five? I don't know!' He flopped back down again and brought his hands up to rest against his chest, his voice sounding steady for the first time that day.

'Do you think I'll ever find her?' he asked quietly, his tone somber as he considered the possibility for the first time. Sam had honestly thought that he would have found her by now, but it was like she'd fallen off the face of the earth. _Someone_ had paid her to turn up that night, but no one seemed to know who (or if they did they weren't talking. - That seemed to be a possibility too, since Sam had upset so many of the society mothers and daughters by opting to find a girl he'd met _once_ instead of choosing one of the women at court.) It seemed that just because _Sam_ hadn't been aware of the tradition, it didn't meant that some of the other members at court hadn't either. They knew that if he were to ask anyone else's hand in marriage now, it would only be because he had failed to procure his first choice.

Sam's parents had been _furious_.

Puck blew out a breath and turned over the question in his mind. The romantic in him - the part he tended to keep well away from the surface - wanted to believe that Sam would find this girl. Even if Puck didn't quite understand Sam's motivations, he could at least appreciate that she'd clearly made an impression on his best friend. But the realist in Puck figured that if this girl was going to come forward, she would have done it by now. Sam's sketch of her had been flashed across every news station and on the front cover of hundreds of thousands of newspapers, and yet still no one seemed to know who she was. The odds just didn't seem to be with them.

'I want you to, man.' Puck said after a while. 'I really do hope you find her.'

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair as he listened to what Puck was not saying.

'But _do you think I'll find her_?' Sam asked again, propping himself up on his elbows so he could better look at the brunette opposite him.

Puck shot Sam a brief, apologetic look and then seemed to find the surface of the coffee table endlessly interesting.

'I think you'll see her again, someday.' Puck allowed finally and then dragged his gaze up to meet Sam's. 'but I'm not sure that day will come before your twenty-fifth, man. I'm sorry.'

Sam nodded and fell backwards against the couch again with a soft _whumph!_ he lay there for a second, allowing himself to fully digest the meaning behind Puck's words. Sam dropped the crook of his arm over his eyes and considered: Puck was pretty much running the campaign to find Lark, which meant that if _he_ thought Sam was unlikely to find her in time… Sam would have to consider the possibility that he _might not find her in time_.

Sam closed his eyes against the thought, but it wouldn't go away. He had a little under six months to find and marry Lark… and it looked like his search for a bridge was going to turn out to be fruitless.

'I'm going to have to consider the others, aren't I?' Sam stated simply after a long stretch of silence. Puck could hear the note of despair in his friend's voice, and his heart broke a little bit to hear it. He wanted to say that it would be fine, that Sam could continue to rebuff the advances of those other women and focus all his attentions on Lark… but if there was one thing Sam deserved, it was the truth.

Puck let out a deep breath and rubbed at his suddenly very tired eyes.

'Yes.' he answered honestly after a brief moment of hesitation. 'I think you're going to have to.'


	7. Chapter 7

Mercedes looked at the expectant faces of her friends turned towards her and made the split second decision to stop running from the truth. The reality of the situation was that, in less than an hour, Prince Samuel had gotten under Mercedes' skin, and now it seemed unlikely that she would ever get him out again. It was just something that she was going to have to deal with, and Mercedes figured that she might as well start now.

'Ok.' She began, her hands tightening around her water glass. 'You guys remember that gig I had three and a half months ago?' Mercedes began slowly, her eyes trained on the threadbare rug they had laid out over the wooden floorboards.

'Um, I didn't tell you guys everything.' Mercedes admitted quietly. 'It was actually at the palace. At the ball in honour of Prince Samuel's 24th birthday, actually.'

She pulled her eyes off the rug for a moment to see how her friends were taking that little piece of information. Tina looked like she was still waiting for the punchline, while Quinn had sat up on the couch and was leaning towards Mercedes, the cogs in her head clearly whirring. Kurt was looking up at her with wide, shining eyes and Mercedes knew that he would be grilling her for the gossip on what everyone was wearing later.

'Anyway,' she continued, not certain how much more she wanted to tell them. 'I met… someone… there and he was… he was very sweet.' Mercedes winced at her obvious editing of the truth, but continued on regardless. 'I've had a hard time forgetting him these past few months. That's all.'

She finished with an awkward shrug and waited for her friends to say something. After a moment of stunned silence, Kurt sat up and pressed his hands to his mouth, his eyes glistening with what looked like _tears._

'That…' he began haltingly, 'is the most _romantic_ thing I have _ever_ heard!' he shook his head at Mercedes for a second before wrapping his arms around her and dragging her into his chest for a hug.

'Come here!'

Tina was a lot more reserved in her response, but she hopped down off the couch and joined Kurt in his hug, making something of a Mercedes sandwich.

Quinn sat looking at them without really seeing them. She was trying to remember something that Mercedes' admission had reminded her of… something that seemed important…

She shook her head when her friends called her name and held their arms out for her to join the group hug, and she smiled and scooted onto the floor to join them, deciding that she'd dwell on what she'd forgotten later when she had a spare minute.

Unfortunately, the diner called a few minutes later to beg Kurt to come in for an extra shift - one of the other waitresses had apparently quit - and a few minutes after Kurt had hung up Mercedes had gotten a call to say that one of the short order cooks had quit too. After some probing a very frazzled, and ruder than usual Rachel admitted that the waitress and the cook had actually run off _together_.

'Good for them' Mercedes had announced once she'd gotten off the phone and filled the others in on the situation. 'It's nice to see a love story with a happy ending.'

'Better for you, too.' Tina added with a grin at her two friends. 'More shifts means more money.'

'And less time.' Quinn sighed, although after a glance over at Mercedes she decided that maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all - it was probably good for Mercy to stay busy, and maybe then she'd have a shot at forgetting the rich, society guy who had charmed and then dropped her. _What a_ _ **jerk**_ _,_ Quinn thought with venom as Mercedes came out of her bedroom in her uniform and slipping her coat onto her shoulders.

Kurt plastered an overly-bright smile on his face as Mercedes emerged from her room and held out his arm for his friend, trying extra hard to be cheery for her sake.

'Let's go!'

/

Two hours into dinner with the Winterbern family, Sam realised that he'd been carefully pondering the practicalities of teaching yourself to sleep with your eyes open for the past half an hour.

The King and Queen had, of course, been delighted when Sam had unenthusiastically put embraced his mother's idea of inviting the most "compatible" women of the kingdom and their families to dine with the royal family while Sam was continuing to look for "that girl".

 _'It just wouldn't do to put all your eggs in the one basket, dear.'_ Sam's mother had warned, and then been pleasantly surprised when Sam had agreed with her. She had chosen to ignore the morose way he'd done it, as well as his general lack of enthusiasm whenever she had tried to get him interested in the details. As far as Queen Mary was concerned it was enough at the moment that Sam was looking elsewhere for his future bride. She knew that it would only be a matter of time before a more appropriate woman stole Sam's heart, and then he'd forget all about this performing girl he seemed to be so preoccupied with.

That was why Sam was at dinner with the Winterberns, because their daughter, Eloise, was _exactly_ the type of woman The Queen considered 'compatible.'

Sam wasn't sure what universe his mother lived in, but it _wasn't_ his. Eloise was a lovely girl, but she and Sam had nothing in common, and they were boring each other to tears with their forced conversation and meaningless small talk. There really was only so long two people could talk about the weather.

The two of them had trailed off into awkward silence, and an anxious Lord Winterbern had started a conversation about the plumbing upgrades he'd just had installed in their manor.

That was when Sam had begun thinking about learning to sleep with his eyes open, it seemed less drastic than impaling himself on his fork.

After another torturous hour and a half, the Winterberns were finally on their way home and Sam was thinking in relief of the privacy and _silence_ of his own living quarters.

He _really_ should have known better.

As soon as Sam set foot down the hallway to his own rooms, a servant materialised at his elbow and promptly relayed the message that Sam's parents wanted to see him.

Sam heaved a heavy sigh as turned away from the promised comfort of home to go face his parents. Something told him that the ordeal wasn't quite over yet.

'You need to give up this ridiculous quest for this woman, Samuel!'

'It's _not_ ridiculous!'

Sam's father dropped his head into his hands and sighed gustily as the conversation between his wife and firstborn son quickly escalated into yet another argument.

'She's not even suitable!'

'She's suitable for _me!'_ Sam shot back, both hands pointed inwards at his own chest. 'Unlike all those other girls you seem to expect me to marry.'

The Queen leaned backwards, looking around the room as if holding up his argument to an invisible audience.

'At least you can _find_ these "other girls"!' the Queen pointed out in irritation, 'Eloise Winterbern is a perfectly wonderful girl, right here on your doorstep! Why can't you just learn to love _her_ instead of wasting your time chasing this absurd _fantasy?'_

The Queen turned blue eyes that shone with frustration on her son, and her tone was pleading when she added quietly. 'Just _pick someone_ _ **else,**_ Samuel.'

'I _can't!_ ' Sam shot back, his tone equally as imploring as he caught his mother's blue gaze with his own green one.

'But you'll _have to_ , Samuel' the Queen told him in a firm, but not unkind voice as she took a step closer and gave her son's arm a maternal pat. 'Because this other woman doesn't seem to _want_ to be found, does she? And you only have _two months_ left.'

'I have five!' Sam protested, stepping out from underneath his mother's hand.

'Anything less than a three month engagement is a shotgun wedding, Samuel.' she insisted, her tone turning haughty. 'And we do not _do_ shotgun weddings in this monarchy.'

'Well, there's a first time for everything!'

The Queen's mouth dropped open in complete shock at what Sam was suggesting, and she turned to her husband in horror rather than address it in the hopes that her husband would force their eldest child to see reason.

The King let out a deep sigh and stood before making his way over to place a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder.

'Three months really _is_ cutting it fine, Samuel.' The King admitted, not liking the way his son's face fell at the news. 'It might reflect badly on the kingdom if it were anything less.'

Beside him, the Queen huffed in agreement. 'However,' the King added, much to his wife's chagrin, 'If it is _absolutely necessary…_ I believe we can work around a shorter engagement.'

Sam's face relaxed in relief at his father's words, and he shot the older man a grateful smile even as his mother spluttered a protest.

'So how long do I have, at the latest?' Sam probed carefully, then bit his cheek in annoyance as his mother cut in with 'Three months.' at the same time as his father said 'One month.'

'One month before my birthday.' Sam repeated, choosing to ignore his mother for the timebeing. 'Out of curiosity,' he asked a moment later, his eyes bright and worryingly alert. 'Should I…' he began, and then paused to lick his unexpectedly dry lips. 'Should I _not_ find her, and not wish to marry anyone else… what would happen then?'

The King was alarmed at the question, but he resolved to give it proper consideration despite his own misgivings about the sentiment behind it. He cocked his head to one side as he thought, while beside him his wife clenched her jaw and forced herself not to voice her disapproval of the suggestion.

'Then…' the King said after a moment of contemplation, 'the line of succession would fall to Stephen, I would suppose.'

Sam nodded and filed that information away in his head to chew over later. He knew that Stevie didn't particularly _want_ the throne, but Sam still couldn't bring himself to rule the idea out completely. If he couldn't find her in time, a small part of him reasoned, then it would be an option.

'OK.' Sam nodded again, more to himself than for his parents benefit. 'One month.' he clarified, and then got up to leave his parents chambers.

A month long engagement would mean that he would have five months left to find her, Sam thought as he made his way back to his rooms. That was enough time. He could do this. He _would_ do this. And if he couldn't, then-

Well… then he had a choice to make.


	8. Chapter 8

Sylvie Westren was getting impatient. It was all very well getting a scoop on the fairy tale of the century, but it didn't mean diddly squat if the prince never actually _found_ his princess.

Sylvie stared at her computer screen for a long moment before turning to call out to her assistant halfway across the room.

'Daniel!' Sylvie jerked her head for him to come over, and waited impatiently as Daniel navigated the office full of people to make his way to her.

'What can I do for you, Sylvie?' Daniel asked once he's made his way over to her, leaning against a cabinet to make it look like Sylvie didn't intimidate him as much as she did. Sylvie was the best in the business, but she didn't get to where she was with sweetness and light alone. Sylvie had a backbone of steel and an iron stomach, and while Daniel respected that, the thought of getting on Sylvie's bad side was terrifying.

Sylvie leaned back in her chair and thought for a long moment, the pen in her hand tapping a steady rhythm against the desk.

'I want you to go liase with that Puckerman guy.' Sylvie decided. 'Find out where he's got to in finding this Cinderella girl, and then do what you can to help him out.' Sylvie stopped tapping and yanked open her desk drawer, she rummaged about in it for a moment before coming up with a white business card in her hand.

'Here.' she told Daniel, sliding the card across the table towards him. 'Make contact with Puckerman and _get me my happy ending.'_

Daniel nodded furiously and fumbled as he tried to get the card off the table with clumsy fingers. Once he'd finally succeeded in picking it up, Daniel scurried across the room to call Puckerman and set up a meeting. If he succeeded in this, then he'd earn Sylvie's respect and a possible promotion, but if he failed… Daniel shuddered and decided not to think about what Sylvie would do to him if he couldn't give her what she asked for.

A few days later, Daniel sat in his favourite deli waiting for Puckerman to show up. The place was probably a little downmarket for a guy who hung out with royalty, but Daniel liked it, and the view was excellent. He watched the young blonde woman behind the counter wipe down the surfaces before hopping up onto her stool to settle down with a book while she waited for a new customer to come in. Her name was Quinn, and Daniel thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He'd jokingly asked her out the very first time he'd seen her, but Quinn had laughed and politely declined. Now Daniel made a point to ask every time he came in, but every time Quinn would say no. Daniel wasn't sure if Quinn was saying no because she didn't want to go out with him, or if she was just saying it because he pretended to be joking when he asked her. Daniel sighed and played with the notebook in front of him on the table. Either way, it was too late now. If he changed tack and asked her out for real it might freak Quinn out, and if she _had_ been saying no because she just didn't want to go out with him, it would make Daniel look like a desperate idiot. Not to mention it would be _really_ embarrassing… and he'd have to find a new deli.

'Daniel Martin?'

Daniel looked up to see a well-built, olive skinned man of about average height standing over him. He nodded and held out a hand for the man to shake.

'Noah Puckerman, I presume.' Daniel guessed, having recognised Puck from the initial interview with Sylvie and the man nodded.

'One and the same, now what can I do for you, Martin?'

Puckerman looked around the deli curiously as he sat down. He'd never really been in a place like this before, and it was interesting. It was small, so small it would probably fit in Puck's bathroom twice, and there was a glass display case along one side that held little plastic tubs that contained a range of different sandwich fillings. A white, cheap looking countertop ran along the outer walls of the shop, and tall black stools were pushed underneath it at semi-regular intervals. Puck pulled one out now and sat on it, leaning on the countertop to get a good look at the blond reading behind the service counter.

'You hungry?' Daniel asked after a moment, completely misinterpreting Puck's gaze, but the question made Puck aware of the fact that he actually was and, as if sensing that food was on the horizon, his stomach gave an answering growl.

'Yeah.' he admitted as he rubbed a hand across his taut, muscled stomach. 'What's good here?'

'Everything!' Daniel grinned and hopped down off his stool, leaving his things on the counter of the almost empty deli. It wasn't exactly peak hours, so they weren't having to deal with the mealtime rush, and Daniel was certain that no one would try to steal their seats anyway.

'So, why did you ask to meet me, man?' Puck asked as he surveyed the selections behind the counter.

'Uh, well.' Daniel began, 'Sylvie asked me to check in with you to see how the hunt for the prince's lost love was going.' he aimed to keep his tone light, but he was fairly certain he'd heard a hint of panic on his voice when he'd mentioned Sylvie. Daniel cringed internally and hoped Puckerman had missed it.

Puck snorted loudly at the lost love part, and the noise made Quinn to look up in surprise from her book.

'It's not.' Puck admitted. 'No one seems to have seen or heard from her. It's like she dropped off the planet after the prince's birthday party.'

Quinn had been about to return to her reading, but her ears pricked up at the mention of Prince Samuel's birthday. _That had been the event Mercedes had been at,_ and Quinn found herself surreptitiously scanning the unfamiliar man in front of her and wondering if maybe he might be the one Mercedes had met. He was certainly handsome enough, but something told Quinn that he wasn't really Mercedes' type. She sighed softly to herself, wondering if she'd ever know the truth, and went back to her book.

'Hey Quinn?' Daniel interrupted a few minutes later, and the blond looked up with a smile ready on her face for the loyal customer.

'You ready to order?' Quinn asked them both as she hopped down off her stool and came to stand in front of the counter expectantly.

'Yeah.' Daniel answered, while the dark haired guy with him just stared thoughtfully at the little separate containers of ingredients.

'I'm going to have the usual.' Daniel said with a wink and Quinn smiled good-naturedly as she set about fixing his pastrami on rye. Once she was done she wrapped it neatly and handed it over the counter to Daniel. Quinn turned her attention to Daniel's companion and waited patiently for a few moments, but the man still seemed to be pondering his choices. Quinn waited for a few moments longer before turning slightly to include Daniel when she asked if they wanted to order together.

'Ugh, sure.' the man said distractedly before Daniel could answer and then proceeded to pull out a twenty dollar bill from his back pocket and hand it to Quinn, much to Daniel's surprise.

'Do you do those sandwiches where you kinda squish and like, toast 'em?' the man asked eagerly, and Quinn couldn't help but smile at his childlike excitement over food.

'Yeah, we do.' she nodded and shot him a smile. 'Is that what you want?'

'Yeah!' Puck looked delighted at the news and stared even harder at the selections in front of him. Eventually, he went for cheese, italian peppers, chicken and tomato. He didn't seem to mind when Quinn told him it would be a few minutes, and when she rang up the bill and tried to hand him his change he waved dismissively and told her to keep it.

'Ok.' Daniel said after he'd said goodbye to Quinn and Puck had slid back onto his stool. 'So _this_ is all the information we have on mystery girl so far.'

Daniel moved his notebook to one side and flipped open a paper folder. He began pulling out newspaper clippings from various newspapers detailing Sam's quest for the woman, laying them all out on the counter until they were all spread out in front of them both. Looking at it now, Daniel was saddened to see just how paltry their offerings were. There was a full sized scan of Sam's drawing of the woman, an article with the description of the woman highlighted, and another article written a few months after the first that speculated as to why the woman had yet to materialise.

'How much information do you have on top of this?' Daniel asked, for once hoping to be provided with a barrage of information. His heart sank when Puck began to slowly shake his head.

'Not much.' the other man announced sadly, staring at the clippings on the counter. He quickly filled Daniel in on the missing parts, although there really wasn't that much to tell, and the two of them stared forlornly down at the paper in front of them before a loud gasp echoed out from behind them and they turned to find Quinn narrowly avoiding decorating the floor with Puck's sandwich.

'I'm really sorry!' she apologised, her eyes still on the drawing as she spoke.

There was a picture of Mercedes on the counter. Quinn was having trouble getting other thoughts through past that very obvious, glaring one.

There was a drawing of Mercedes on the counter - between two men who had earlier been talking about the prince looking for a woman who had disappeared after his birthday…

Quinn let out a loud gasp and clutched a hand to her chest, sinking heavily into the stool next to Daniel and his friend. Thankfully, she'd already deposited the sandwich safely in front of the unfamiliar man, and now Quinn was completely free to ponder this strange development that had landed on her doorstep.

 _There was a picture of Mercedes on the counter._

All at once, Quinn remembered what it was that Mercedes' story had reminded her of:

Some customers had come in a few months before talking about how the prince had been on TV talking about some girl he'd met on his birthday. Quinn hadn't paid much mind to their talk back then, because she hadn't known then that Mercedes had ever even _been_ to the palace, but now it was all falling into place and making perfect, crazy sense.

'You ok, Quinn?' Daniel asked, eyeing the blonde woman with concern. 'Do you want me to call someone?'

Quinn shook her head and waved away Daniel's concerns, but she did stand up to peer more closely at the clippings in front of them.

'Who's that?' she asked feigning carelessness as she pointed at the picture of Mercedes, silently cursing the shaking fingers that threatened to betray her.

'Are you serious?!' Puck scoffed as he tested the heat of his sandwich in preparation of taking a bite. 'Where have you been lady?'

'No one knows who she is.' Daniel explained kindly. 'That's kinda the mystery of the thing. Prince Samuel has been looking for her for months now, and still no dice.' he eyed Quinn suspiciously, his journalistic instincts tingling. 'Why? You recognise her?'

Quinn swallowed and tore her eyes away from the portrait, wondering what she should say. It was possible that Mercedes wouldn't _want_ to be found, and Quinn had to admit that the Princestuff was completely new to her. Mercedes had made it sound like the man she'd met was some nondescript titled guy that none of them would have heard of, but _this…_ this was _very_ different. Quinn's eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to figure out what to do. Mercedes had been keeping secrets from all of them, and until Quinn knew why she couldn't in good faith give up Mercedes' identity. If the woman didn't want her _best friends_ knowing, then it stood to reason that Mercedes wouldn't want to tell these guys either. - That is, assuming that Mercedes even _knew_ about Prince Samuel trying to find her. Goodness knew that it had blindsided Quinn. The whole thing was a very complicated knot, and one that Quinn wasn't ashamed to admit she couldn't untie on her own. She'd have to call in reinforcements.

'Maybe.' Quinn hedged, turning to give Daniel her most reassuring smile.

'Well, maybe is more than we've got right now.' Puck cut in silkily, finally catching on to Quinn's strange reaction. 'Maybe you could tell us who you _think_ she is?'

Quinn paled, her eyes drifting back to the drawing again. She dragged her attention away from it and turned quickly back to Puck, a bright - and completely false - apologetic smile spread over her face.

'I'm not sure.' she lied. 'Do you have a number or something I can contact you on if I remember?'

Puck eyed her suspiciously but nodded, reaching into his inside pocket for a business card. His eyes went to the the card, checking every detail quickly before he handing it to the blonde woman. Something told Puck that it was very important that she should be able to contact him - even if she _did_ seem a little scatty.

'Ask for Noah Puckerman.' he told her succinctly before taking another bite of his sandwich.

'O…ok.' Quinn agreed, staring down at the rectangular piece of card in her hands for a long, thoughtful moment before tucking it carefully into the back pocket of her jeans.

'I will.'


	9. Chapter 9

'I'm going to run to the grocery store.' Mercedes announced a few days later. 'Anyone want anything?'

'No, we're good.'

Quinn shot a saccharine sweet smile at her friend and casually put a staying hand on Tina's leg when it looked like the other girl was about to suggest joining her. Mercedes looked at them both oddly, but Quinn made sure to keep the smile on her face and after a while Mercedes shrugged and left, although she hovered in the doorway for a long moment with a deep crevice between her eyebrows signalling her confusion.

As soon as the door had closed behind Mercedes Quinn's smile dropped, and she moved her jaw experimentally to ease her aching cheek muscles as she turned back to Kurt and Tina with a face that had turned suddenly serious.

'We need to talk.'

'About?' Kurt asked from where he was sitting cross legged on the couch filing his nails.

'About _this.'_ Quinn said, going into her room and emerging a few moments later holding a newspaper.

'Whoa, is that Mercedes?' Tina asked in awe, getting up to take the paper from Quinn's hands and get a closer look.

'Yes.' Quinn said, folding her arms. 'And Mercy didn't tell us everything. Check the headline, T.'

Tina obligingly unfolded the paper and read the headline out loud.

' _Prince searches for his Cinderella_.' She looked up at Quinn and Kurt in surprise but Quinn gestured for her to keep reading. 'Prince Samuel begins search for mysterious birthday guest who stole his heart.' _Holy shit._ ' Tina added, sitting down heavily on the armrest of the couch. 'Mercy's secret love affair was with a _prince.'_

 _'_ It was _hardly_ a love affair.' Kurt corrected, uncrossing his legs to pluck the newspaper from Tina's lap. 'Although from the looks of things it certainly made an impression on his Highness.' Kurt scanned the front page of the paper and turned it to face the two women. 'Did you know he _drew_ this.' he asked them, pointing to the picture of Mercedes. 'It's really quite good.'

'Kurt!' Quinn snapped, impatiently snatching the paper out from between Kurt's fingers. 'This is _serious._ He's _looking_ for her.'

'Ugh, that's _so_ romantic.' Tina sighed, tipping back off the armrest to land on her back on the couch. 'It's like a fairytale.'

'Yeah, except Mercedes' catchphrase lately has been 'fairytales don't exist." Kurt reminded her before turning back to face Quinn. 'Do you think she knows about this?'

Quinn shrugged and studied the paper, although she'd stared at the thing so many times over the course of the past few days that she could probably recite the whole article from memory.

'I don't know.' Quinn said hesitantly after a minute or two. 'I think it's possible that she does… and she doesn't _want_ him to find her…'

'But…' Tina prompted, and Quinn sighed.

'But, she's been singing that damned song even more lately.' Quinn said, thinking about how sad Mercedes looked these days. 'And my gut says that's because she cares about him too, however insane and unlikely that may seem.'

The two women turned to Kurt, wondering what he had to say about all this, but he was eyeing Quinn with narrowed eyes.

'What aren't you saying?' he wanted to know, and Quinn worried her lip before settling herself on the couch next to Tina.

'Ok, so this guy came into my deli a few days ago.' Quinn admitted, talking fast to get the whole story in before Mercedes came back. 'And it turns out he's a friend of Prince Samuel's and he's in charge of this effort to find her, and he obviously saw that I recognised her, because he gave me this card, which means now I have to make a decision as to whether I tell him her name or not. Or if I tell Mercedes or not. I mean, I don't want to upset her, and what if she's just decided against the Prince and doesn't want to think about it anymore?'

Kurt thought for a long moment before tapping his lips with a slender finger.

'Ask her.' he said after a moment. 'It'll be better coming from us than somewhere else, and if she doesn't want to talk about it then we'd better know so we can protect her from all this. I mean, it's just a matter of time before _someone_ recognises her, right?'

He looked to Tina and Quinn and they both nodded slowly. 'Besides,' Kurt added. 'I actually _do_ think she wants to see him again.' Kurt told them both. 'I think she _really_ wants to see him again.'

/

Mercedes stared at the newspaper on the coffee table without saying anything. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out.

Quinn, Kurt and Tina sat huddled together on the opposite couch watching Mercedes warily. None of them were entirely sure how she would react to the news that a) Prince Samuel was looking for her. or b) that they knew that her moment had been with a _Prince._

Mercedes picked up the newspaper and re-read the headline for what was at least the tenth time, and took the time to skim through the article for anything she might have missed the first three times she'd read it.

'He's looking for me.' her tone and body language were completely unreadable, and Tina's head tipped to the side as she tried to figure out if her friend was upset or not.

'… _Yes?_ '

Beside her, Kurt and Quinn leaned forward almost as one to hear Mercedes' response.

'He's _looking for me.'_ Mercedes repeated pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth.

'I…' Kurt tried to get a read on his friend's mood, but it was hard considering she just kept repeating that same sentence over and over again. 'I'm lost.' Kurt admitted, 'is that a good thing?'

The question earned him sharp, disapproving looks from Tina and Quinn, but Mercedes rewarded him by peeling her big, doe eyes off the paper in her hands and turning to look at him.

'A good thing?' Quinn was already half up out of her seat to wrap her friend in a comforting hug when Mercedes finished. 'It's a _wonderful_ thing! Kurt! He's _looking_ for me!' A giggle escaped from between Mercedes' lips as she turned back to the newspaper again, her face incredulous as she stared down at the portrait of her gracing the cover.

'Did you guys know he _drew_ this?' She asked after a moment's scrutiny, holding the paper up so her friends could see. 'After seeing me _once.' s_ he added with a shake of her head. 'It's actually really impressive.'

Quinn studied Mercedes studying the newspaper and frowned. Mercedes was obviously happy that Prince Samuel was looking for her, but Quinn still wasn't sure that Mercedes _wanted_ to be found. She stared at Mercedes' bent head for a moment longer before sliding into the empty seat next to her.

'Mercy…' Quinn began, and Mercedes turned to look at her with a bright smile. 'Do you… uh…' Quinn trailed off, turning to Kurt and Tina for a little help on broaching the subject.

'I think that what Quinn is trying to ask,' Tina added coming over to sit on Mercedes' other side. 'Is… uh…'

Tina trailed off when she caught sight of the brightness in Mercedes eyes. It had been months since she'd seen her friend that happy, and all at once she understood Quinn's reluctance to sully it.

'Oh for goodness sake!' Kurt crossed his arms across his chest, but remained firmly seated on the sofa across from his best friends. 'Mercedes, do you want to meet Prince Samuel again or not?'

It felt like the whole room held its breath for the moment it took Mercedes to answer. Tina and Quinn sat frozen on either side of Mercedes and all three of them stared up at Kurt with wide eyes until, what could only have been a second later, Mercedes lowered the newspaper to her lap, smiled and said,

'Of course.'


	10. Chapter 10

Mercedes waited nervously in one of the palace's many greeting rooms and tried not to destroy the manicure Kurt had given her in preparation for this meeting. She distracted herself by trying to calculate how many months rent each item in the room was worth, but she got bored after a while. Generally, the answer was always the same: a lot.

Mercedes smoothed her dress out and tried to stop her hands from shaking. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and half turned to Noah Puckerman to ask him the same question she'd been asking ever since her roommates had showed her that newspaper the week before.

'Are you _sure_ he wants to meet me?'

' _Yes_.' Puck told her firmly, taking her hand in his to stop her from fussing with her dress anymore. 'Trust me, I've been the one who's had to hear about _just how much_ he wants to find you for the past five months.' Puck assured her, giving her hand a squeeze. 'He _really, truly, honestly_ wants to see you.'

Mercedes nodded as Puck let go of her hand, but immediately began to smooth her skirt again when Puck suggested he go find Sam to meet her.

'He's going to be so surprised!' Puck blurted before he left, and gave a little excited punch of the air as he made his way to the door. He shot Mercedes the thumbs up with a look on his face that could only be described as 'glee', and then went to go find his friend.

Puck purposely hadn't told Sam about finding Mercedes yet, partly because he knew it would break Sam's heart if Mercedes backed out of meeting him, and also because he still wasn't over his awesome stripper surprise for Sam's birthday being ruined all those months ago. As far as Puck was concerned, now was the perfect time to make up for that disappointment.

The plan was to get Sam to wait in the living room of his suite of rooms, and then to bring Mercedes down to meet him. Puck beamed as he imagined how things would go down; Mercedes would open the door and then _**BOOM**_ _!_ instant fairy tale. Puck gave a little hop of anticipation as he continued to search for Sam with a spring in his step.

Mercedes was singing softly to herself in an attempt to calm the bat-like butterflies in her stomach when she heard the door open behind her. She knew, logically, that it wouldn't be Sam yet, but the butterflies in her stomach quickly grew to elephantine proportions and she felt her heartbeat pick up and beat a tattoo against her chest. In a few minutes she'd be seeing him again. That was it, just a few short minutes and then she could stop trying to force herself to forget Sam, could stop feeling like she was living in Pleasantville before colour. In a few short minutes, she'd be able to tell if she was being delusional, or if the things that she'd felt that night and in the days since were really real.

Mercedes took a deep, steadying breath and turned around…

… but when she did she found that it was not Puck who stood behind her, but someone Mercedes would never have expected to see.

The woman's golden hair curled gently over her shoulders, and she looked cool and calm in her cream coloured skirt suit. Even in such unassuming, although obviously expensive, clothing, the woman still managed to exude an air of regality that left Mercedes in absolutely no doubt as to who she was.

 _The Queen._

 _/_

'Hello, Dear.'

The Queen smiled, looking elegant and unreal as she regarded Mercedes detachedly from her position just inside the doorway.

'I'm aware that you're here to see my son,' the Queen continued, stepping further into the room without waiting for Mercedes' response. 'But I was hoping that you and I might have a little chat first, would that be alright?'

Mercedes nodded numbly, not sure what else she _could_ do when the Queen was standing in front of her asking for a private audience.

'Of course!' Mercedes smiled accommodatingly and guided the Queen over to the couch. Her smile was shaky, but Mercedes ignored it while she focused on regaining her ability to speak. 'It would be my honour.'

The Queen smiled graciously at Mercedes before sinking fluidly down into a chair, pausing politely to wait while Mercedes did the same before she went on.

'You strike me as an intelligent woman, Miss…'

'Jones.' Mercedes supplied quietly, the clenching in her gut making her certain that this wouldn't be a pleasant conversation.

'Miss Jones.' the Queen recited dutifully, and shot Mercedes a tight, insincere smile. 'And time is of the essence, so lets not pussy foot around things. I'm going to be blunt with you, Miss Jones. We're both grown women, and I think we can discuss this as such.'

Mercedes felt the frown tugging the corners of her mouth, but she chose not to say anything. The Queen had obviously come here with something to say, so Mercedes just needed to let the woman say it.

'My son intends to ask you to marry him.' the Queen announced after a long pause and a heavy sigh that left Mercedes in no doubt that she considered that to be a _very bad idea_. Noticing the look of shocked disbelief on the young woman's face the Queen stopped and folded her hands in her lap, her blue eyes telegraphing sincerity.

'I know it seems unlikely, but I assure you that he has his reasons.' she added coolly, 'I am absolutely _certain,_ Miss Jones, that my son intends to ask you for your hand in marriage.'

Mercedes sat back, reeling from the Queen's admission and tried to think of something to say, but she was speechless. The idea was completely insane… and yet… and yet Mercedes didn't miss the tingle of excitement that ran down her spine at the prospect. Apparently it didn't go unnoticed by the Queen either.

'I also expect,' the Queen went on, her pretty eyes locked on Mercedes' face. 'That were Samuel to ask you such a thing, you would be inclined to say 'yes'.' the woman continued. 'I suggest you do not.'

Mercedes was broken out of her dazed reverie by the Queen's harsh tone, and she looked up at the older woman only to find that the expression that met her was stony and immovable.

'I'm sorry, what did you say?' Mercedes ventured, certain that she must have heard the Queen wrong.

'I said,' the Queen repeated, folding her hands elegantly in her lap as she continued speaking. 'That I suggest you say no.'

She smiled at Mercedes then, a bright, pretty smile that would have been lovely if it hadn't been so contextually sinister. Mercedes swallowed hard, unsure what was going on but certain that this conversation wasn't headed anywhere good.

 _Was the Queen_ _ **threatening**_ _her?_

'My son is going to be king, Miss Jones.' The Queen proceeded conversationally. 'And I see his potential to be a king who will bring the public back to the monarchy. In the passing years, the public has lost interest in us.' the Queen explained familiarly.

'They consider us to be a useless and ageing institution.' She waved a dismissive hand to rubbish the notion before turning to bestow Mercedes with another smile. It was the first genuine smile she'd given since she'd entered the room, but it still made Mercedes uneasy. _Just like chess_ , she thought warily, _it's the Queen you have to watch out for._

'But they _love_ my son, Miss Jones.' the Queen continued, still smiling. 'They _adore_ him. And with the right guidance, I truly believe that Samuel could be the _best_ king this country has ever seen. Because mark my words, Miss Jones, Samuel _will_ be king. And when he is…' the Queen smirked again. 'When he _is_ , he will need a strong wife by his side. Are you following, Miss Jones? He will need a woman well versed in the nature of this life. Someone who understands the nuances of court and can suitably help her husband traverse those troubled waters. In short, he needs someone from _his_ world _,_ Miss Jones, and that someone _isn't you._ Now, I believe I've made myself abundantly clear, have I not?'

Mercedes nodded, her heart heavy as the truth of the Queen's words settled in her chest like a cloak of lead.

'Yes, your majesty.'

The Queen sighed, her voice softening as she studied the girl before her. She looked very young, the Queen realised, young, but not necessarily naive - except, evidently, when it came to this sort of thing.

'I know that our having this conversation casts me as the villain in the fairytale the media are painting around you two.' The Queen admitted gently, 'but I'm afraid that things really aren't that simple. None of this is.' she let out a little sigh and rose to her feet, crossing the room to stare up at a portrait that hung above the large fireplace between them. 'I want my son to be happy.' she acknowledged, her back to Mercedes as she stared up at the painting of an earlier king.

'What kind of mother would I be if I didn't?' the blonde woman stared up at the portrait for a moment longer before turning around to face Mercedes again. 'But I also believe in his potential, and I cannot bear to let that go to waste.' the Queen paused and considered her next words carefully before speaking. She had an important point to get across, and she needed to do it delicately if she wanted it to have the desired effect.

'Marrying into this family doesn't earn you a marriage, my dear.' the older woman explained finally, her blue eyes steady and sincere on Mercedes' as she crossed back to her seat again. 'It earns you a _job._ One that you will be stuck with for the rest of your life, whether you like it or not.'

The Queen paused as she lowered herself into her seat again, smoothing her skirt out over her knees. She clasped her hands in front of her again and studied them for a moment before turning her attention back to her son's would-be bride.

'And with any job, it's important to choose the right candidate,' the Queen added more firmly, the wistful tone in her voice gone. 'and sometimes… the person best suited for the task is _not_ the person that one likes the most.'

The Queen pursed her lips apologetically at the young woman in front of her. The girl actually seemed sweet, and she was charming, in her own way - but she was still entirely wrong for the task at hand. Samuel was a dreamer, and he needed someone to keep his feet on the ground, _not_ someone who would fly off into the clouds with him.

'When you look at me, what do you see?' the Queen asked after a moment, her head tilted curiously at Mercedes. 'Tell me the first thing that popped into your head when you saw me.'

Mercedes tried to swallow past the hard lump and dryness in her throat before she answered, but even so her voice held an edge of raspiness that hinted at the tears that Mercedes was currently holding at bay.

'I thought, 'It's the Queen." Mercedes answered dutifully, and the Queen nodded, having fully expected that answer.

'Because that's who I am.' she said, not unkindly as Mercedes dropped her eyes to the floor again. 'I am, and always will be, _The Queen_ first.' she took a deep breath and studied the shoes that had been carefully matched to her outfit briefly before speaking. 'I am also a wife, and a mother, and beyond that, a woman… and yet when you looked at me, the first thing you saw was my title.'

She waited until Mercedes had lifted her gaze to meet hers again before continuing. ' _That_ is why I don't want you to marry my son, my dear, that far more than _anything_ else. Because this mantle can be a heavy load to bear, Miss Jones, and it is better suited for shoulders that have spent the entire duration of their lives preparing for its weight.'

Mercedes nodded silently as she blinked back the tears that were getting harder and harder to control. She wasn't really a big crier, in general, but this situation… the crushing disappointment and hurt she was feeling… it was all too much for Mercedes to deal with right now. Even so, she refused to cry in front of this woman, Mercedes refused to show her weakness to someone who so clearly expected it. She refused to give her the satisfaction.

'This story isn't about love.' the Queen finished delicately, her own eyes lowering momentarily. 'However much we might want it to be. Samuel just wasn't born into a world where love can come first.'

The Queen rose in a single, graceful movement and Mercedes stood automatically with her, sensing that the conversation was now over. She smiled and looked the Queen dead in the eye as the older woman excused herself, and tried to pretend that she didn't feel the full force of what the Queen had said crashing into her and decimating her heart.

Mercedes had _known_ this would happen. She'd _known_ it. Why else had she spent all that time reminding herself that fairytales didn't exist? Because they _didn't._ They were nothing but pipe dreams and children's stories. Mercedes had been indulging in a fantasy, and she felt ashamed now for ever having believed that any of this could be real.

The Queen leaned over, took one of Mercedes' hands in her slender, cool one and gave it a small, comforting squeeze.

'I know you were here to see Samuel…' she mentioned quietly and Mercedes rocked back on her heels as if she'd been slapped. She began shaking her head gently from side to side, not even realising she was performing the action as she reeled from the Queen's words. Seeing Sam now would break her - break her into tiny pieces that Mercedes would never recover from - she hated herself for feeling that way about him, but she couldn't deny that that was the truth either.

'However,' the Queen was saying, 'should you change your mind, I could have one of my drivers take you anywhere you would like.' the Queen lifted a hand to indicate the servants standing quietly outside the door, waiting for the audience to be over.

'I believe that Samuel doesn't know that you've been found?' The Queen asked, studying Mercedes' face intently until the girl nodded.

'Then perhaps someone can take you home.' she finished helpfully, 'I suspect that it would be prudent to leave before he can find out.' the blonde woman smiled kindly at the short woman, who looked back at her with big, wide eyes.

'You were lost for five months, weren't you?' The Queen suggested gently. 'I don't suppose it would be too difficult for you to remain lost for five more. By that time, all of this will all be over.' The Queen shot Mercedes a reassuring smile. 'I'm sure neither of us wants to cause Samuel any more distress than is _absolutely_ _necessary_.'

Mercedes' head bobbed again numbly and the Queen gave the woman's hand another squeeze before leading her gently to the doorway to hand her off to a waiting manservant.

'You know, dear.' Sam's mother said just before Mercedes was lead down the hall, 'If things had been different, I think you would have made an excellent wife for Samuel.'

She smiled sadly and gave a small, apologetic shrug of her slim, elegant shoulders. Mercedes nodded her thanks, not trusting her voice to make it past the lump in her throat, and made sure to keep her head held high, even if her eyes were currently glistening with unshed tears.

'Perhaps you would have made an excellent Queen, too.' Sam's mother added, admiring the resolve and grace Mercedes had displaced despite the situation. She sighed again and levelled a sad smile at the ground before lifting her head to look Mercedes in the eye. 'But birthright is what it is.'

'For what it's worth,' the Queen called out as Mercedes prepared to be guided away and out of the palace for the last time. 'I truly am sorry.'

Mercedes gave no answer, but she swept into a deep curtsy and then rose wordlessly to put the palace and the royal family behind her, forever.


	11. Chapter 11

Puck whistled as he made his way down the hallway to the room Mercedes was waiting in. A very confused Sam was currently waiting in his living room for the 'surprise' that Puck was going to bring him, and the man did a little dance down the hallway as he neared the meeting room.

Puck had allowed his rarely seen inner romantic to have full reign for this one occasion, and he was could feel his excitement bubbling joyfully in his stomach as he knocked lightly on the door to the meeting room and pushed it open.

'Miss Jo-ones!' Puck sang happily as he poked his head around the corner. 'Are you ready?'

Puck frowned when no one answered, and then followed his head around the doorframe to look around the notably empty room with a sense of confusion that quickly grew into mounting panic.

'Mercedes?' Puck tore quickly through the connected rooms with a sick feeling in his throat as he looked desperately for any trace of her, but every room was empty.

Mercedes had gone.

'What the hell happened?' Puck asked the empty room, his voice reverberating as he furrowed his handsome brow and wondered what on _earth_ could have made Mercedes run. She had been all smiles and delight when he'd brought her to the palace just a few minutes earlier - nervous, yes, but generally excited.

So how had she gone from _that_ to pulling a disappearing act in less than twenty minutes?

Puck scrubbed a hand forward over his short, dark hair and stared into the room's emptiness as if doing so would cause Mercedes to materialise again.

A throat cleared discreetly behind him, and Puck whirled to find an older male servant with white hair cut in a style that hadn't been popular since the 1800s. He was standing rigidly by the door, but his eyes were on Puck and seemed to be telegraphing the younger man over.

Annoyed and disappointed by the turn of events, Puck narrowed his eyes at the man and prepared to say something cutting before a thought dawned on him and he stopped himself.

'Do _you_ know where she went?' Puck asked curiously, taking a few steps in to bring him closer to the servant.

'I…' the man's eyes darted around as he nervously scanned the room. He lowered his voice to a hushed whisper and leaned in before he spoke, so that only Puck would be able to hear his next words.

'I can tell you nothing.' the man told Puck cryptically and the younger man was about to complain loudly about time wasters when the servant continued. 'For example, I cannot tell you that the Queen paid Miss Jones a visit, nor would it be my place to mention that Miss Jones left with one of the Queen's personal drivers shortly after said audience.'

Puck clenched his fists in anger as he chewed over the news and fought the urge to say something treasonous and unpleasant about the Queen. Puck nodded his thanks to the servant but kept his jaw clamped firmly shut for a little while longer, just in case he should accidentally let loose the string of curses that were currently on loop in his brain.

'If only you could have told me those things,' Puck told the man after he'd resolved himself, 'I would have been very grateful.'

'Tis a shame then, Sir, that I could not.'

'Isn't it.'

A small smile twitched feebly at the corners of Puck's mouth as he took his leave, shaking his head at the double speak and silently resolving to pay a lot more attention to the servants in the future.

/

Quinn opened the door and pulled Puck into the apartment the moment she spotted him through the spy hole. Towing him inside with a surprising amount of strength, she yanked at him until he was standing outside Mercedes' closed door and then turned to fix him with a glare that matched the ones being thrown at him from Kurt and Tina on either side of her.

'You want to tell us what _this_ is about?' Quinn demanded, folding her arms across her chest and mirroring the accusingly aggressive stances of both Kurt and Tina had adopted.

'She's been in there crying for _hours.'_ Kurt volunteered, giving Noah Puckerman his best 'Judging you' face. 'What did they do to her?'

Puck sighed and scrubbed his hand over his close cropped hair. 'She hasn't told you?'

He looked up to find all three of Mercedes' roommates shaking their heads.

'Damnit.'

'Did he decide he didn't want her?' Quinn asked quietly, her heart breaking at the thought, but Puck shook his own head adamantly.

'She didn't even _get_ that far.' he explained to the group, and then glanced forlornly at Mercedes' door.

'Wait, _what_?' Tina asked staring Puck down and waiting impatiently for clarification. 'Rewind and explain.'

Puck sighed again and jerked his head over to the couches, dropping his head into his hands as soon as he'd sunk down onto one of the worn seats.

'I left her to go find Sam, right?' Puck began, 'I was only gone for like… fifteen, twenty minutes tops, but then when I come _back_ she's gone. And it turns out that _the Queen_ decided to come talk to her.'

There were muted gasps as Tina, Kurt and Quinn all exchanged meaningful glances.

'Next thing I know.' Puck continued, 'I find out that Mercedes has left with one of the Queen's _personal_ drivers, and suddenly she doesn't want to see Sam anymore.' Puck shook his head and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. 'This is so messed up.'

'Well, what did the Queen say?' Tina asked cautiously, but Puck just shrugged his shoulders.

'No one knows but Mercedes and the Queen herself.' he explained wearily. 'Even the servants were asked to wait outside.'

'Great.' Quinn complained, her gaze drifting to Mercedes' closed door again. 'So now what?'

Puck stared at Mercedes door for a long moment before standing up abruptly and going over to pound on it with his fist.

'Open up, Mercedes!' He called through the thin wood. 'If you don't let me in I'm going to bash the door down and replace it with a cheaper alternative!'

Quinn and Kurt both stared at Puck in horror, but Tina shrugged and propped her elbow up on the armrest as she watched the action go down.

After a long few minutes, the doorknob turned and Mercedes stepped out. Her face was blotchy from crying and her eyes were bright red, but the look on her face was stern even as she swiped at the tears on her face with a balled up tissue.

'There _is_ no cheaper alternative to my door.' she told Puck through sniffles. 'I'm pretty sure this one's held together by tissue paper and force of will.'

She turned away from him in time to see a flash of movement as her friends hurtled towards her and abruptly squeezed her into the centre of a tight group hug.

'What happened?'

'What did that bitch say?'

'How can we make it better?'

All three of them spoke at once, and Mercedes couldn't help but offer up a watery smile at their obvious concern for her, but their worry - coupled with Tina's 'bitch' comment- made Mercedes all the more aware of how foolishly she was acting. None of this was all that big a deal, she was a girl with a crush on a guy she couldn't have - that was it. Mercedes gave one last, loud sniff and straightened as much as she could beneath her friends' arms.

'She didn't say anything that wasn't true.' Mercedes told them all, her voice muffled by their bodies. 'She just reminded me that… when a job such as Prince Samuel's is hereditary… then love is a secondary consideration.'

Tina pulled away from the group and narrowed her eyes at Mercedes curiously. 'I thought you said it _wasn't_ love?'

Mercedes shrugged and pulled away from Kurt and Quinn as she answered. 'It wasn't.' she bit her lip, thinking of the way she'd felt in Sam's arms, about the connection she'd felt with him that she'd never experienced before. Not even with the friends currently draping themselves around her. '…but maybe it could have been…'

Mercedes looked unseeing into the distance for half a beat longer before she snapped herself out of it and gave them all her best, most reassuring smile. 'I guess we'll never know now, huh?'

Mercedes moved away from them all and made her way over to the kitchen, dabbing at the last of the tears in her eyes with the wadded tissue as she went.

Pausing to throw the disintegrating tissue in the bin, Mercedes straightened with a bright smile and addressed the only person in the room who had yet to move from the position they'd been in when Mercedes had re-entered the room.

'Mr. Puckerman, may I offer you a drink?'

Puck frowned at the woman in front of him, not trusting Mercedes' suddenly sunny disposition and not liking the turn this day was taking. He shook his head to the drink but followed after Mercedes to lean on the low wall that separated the kitchen from the living room. Puck studied the short woman as she reached into a cupboard to retrieve a mug as if absolutely nothing was wrong. Puck's frown deepened when he realised that she was even _humming._

'So is that it?' he asked her incredulously, his tone harsh as Mercedes' continued to make herself a cup of tea. 'You're just going to accept the crap she fed you and never see Sam again?'

Mercedes' hands stilled on her mug at Puck's tone, but she forced herself into movement again a moment later and reached up into the cupboard to get herself a tea bag.

'Are you sure you wouldn't like a drink, Mr. Puckerman?' she checked, holding the tea bag up imploringly and shaking it.

Apparently, the idea disgusted the dark haired man, because his entire face scrunched up in distaste.

'What I would _like,_ is for you to stop avoiding this!' Puck spat, annoyed by the situation, angry at the Queen, and more than anything, frustrated that these two people - these two _good_ people - were _hurting_ because they were apart. And there was nothing Puck could do about it.

'Maybe I was never _meant_ to see Sam again, Puck.' Mercedes told him softly, carefully avoiding the man's accusing gaze as she filled her mug with hot water. 'I told Sam - _Prince Samuel_ \- as much on the night that we met. We had our one moment, and now…' the happy facade faltered and, for a moment, Mercedes' vulnerability and pain were on display for everyone to see… but then she plastered another fake smile on her face and made an attempt at a disinterested shrug that only succeeded in making her look defeated.

'Now it's over, and the two of us should give up this stupid dream of the fairy tale and try to move on.'

Puck wrinkled his nose in distaste as he listened to Mercedes talk, and beside him Tina did the same. He wasn't sure when Mercedes' roommate had propped herself up next to him, she and the others had chosen to remain silent as he and Mercedes had it out over this, but he appreciated the unspoken support Tina was offering. Quinn looked torn, and Kurt - well, Puck didn't know Kurt well enough to know _what_ the other man was thinking, but his blue eyes hadn't left Mercedes since she'd first emerged from her room.

Puck returned his attention to the woman in question and bit back a gusty sigh. It was obvious to him that Mercedes didn't really _mean_ what she was saying, but the Queen had somehow managed to brainwash the girl into thinking that she was somehow doing Sam, and the kingdom, some sort of service by staying away. Puck stared at the clean, but shabby surface he was leaning on as he fought to get the sudden flare of his temper under control. He had his own set of issues with the Queen and her constant need to involve herself in Sam's life, but this… this took the cake. This was a step too far in Puck's mind, and he made the decision then and there to do absolutely _everything_ in his power to get Sam and Mercedes together. Even if they didn't end up together, even if Sam married Eloise or Melissa, or Abigail, or Xanthe or any of the other eligible women in the kingdom, if Sam phoned him up one day years down the line and chose Mercedes, then Puck wanted to be able to make that happen. He closed his eyes and tried to think.

What Mercedes was saying was BS - Puck knew that straight off the bat. He _knew_ Sam, they'd been best friends for years, and Puck could see the effect Mercedes had had on Sam before the blond had even uttered a word. Back then, Puck hadn't realised quite how significant the young singer would be, but in the months that had passed since then, he'd come to realise that her effect on Sam had been profound. After talking to Quinn and meeting Mercedes himself, Puck was inclined to believe that Mercedes had had a similar reaction.

Neither of them would ever be able to fully move on from this, of that Puck was certain. Sam and Mercedes may only have met for twenty minutes or so, but apparently it was enough. Puck sighed and rubbed at his wrinkled forehead in disbelief. The media had run with this idea of Mercedes and Sam as a fairy tale, but Puck was becoming more and more inclined to agree with them. It was certainly complicated enough.

'What if you _can't_ move on?' Puck asked eventually, looking up to find Mercedes staring into her full mug as if she'd suddenly decided she didn't want it anymore. She was quiet for so long that Puck began to worry that she'd taken a vow of silence, and he exchanged a worried look with Tina before Mercedes eventually spoke.

'Then I guess I'll just get used to the ache.'


	12. Chapter 12

Sam smiled blandly and bobbed his head along to the incredibly boring conversation the older gentlemen around him were having. It was about horse racing - or something equally dull - Sam couldn't be completely sure because despite his best efforts he'd zoned out. No one seemed to have noticed, but Sam made sure to keep his face a mask of polite interest, just in case, as the men continued to prattle on as if they were discussing the most important subjects in the world.

Sam shifted in his chair to reach for his tumbler of scotch, and he automatically began to swirl the dark liquid in the bottom almost as soon as his fingers made contact with the smooth crystal. The motion was a welcome distraction, and it took Sam further out of the conversation as he studied the spiralling amber in the bottom of the glass contemplatively.

 _Two months_ , Sam realised, the familiar crushing sadness weighing on his chest at the thought. He had two months left before his final deadline… and he _hadn't found her_.

Sam had had a lot of sleepless nights since his birthday. They hadn't been all that unusual before, but the difference was that now Sam found himself spending those restless moments thinking almost exclusively of Lark.

He still remembered her so vividly, even months after the fact. Sam's memories of her were _so_ vivid that he'd actually begun to wonder privately if she might have been a dream. Sam would stare up at his bedroom ceiling and wonder if maybe Lark was an illusion conjured by Sam's tired mind to give him hope in something brighter. Perhaps she was meant to be nothing more than a symbol that life could be _more_ than the endless streams of meaningless events and insincere people that filled Sam's days. More than boring dinners and zoned out conversations _._

She could be a fairy, Sam considered semi-seriously, or maybe an enchantress. It wouldn't be that much of a stretch to believe that her intention that night had been to bewitch him until he'd never be the same again. Sam had read fairy stories like that before, and he found himself frowning slightly as the realisation dawned on him that those stories never really ended well for the enchanted person. If that was what she was, then Sam could look forward to growing gradually insane as he tried to find her again, his mind slowly unravelling as he made futile attempt after futile attempt to grasp something he had held only once before, and so fleetingly…

Sam shuddered at the thought and forced his attention back to the conversation going on around him. It was still as dull as it had been before, but he made an effort to engage himself in the chatter more than he had before for the sake of propriety.

He was currently in the company of the illustrious Van Stratten family having been invited to dine with them by society darling Melissa Van Stratten. Sam had been inclined to say 'no' - he liked Melissa, and as the women at court went she was definitely good company, but Sam wasn't deaf to the whispers around the kingdom that pipped Melissa as his chosen bride. The theory around court had been that since Sam's mystery woman had failed to materialise, Melissa would step up and take over the vacant spot on the throne and in Sam's heart.

Sam had been well aware of these rumours, and he had no interest in perpetuating them. Melissa was someone he'd known since childhood, and although they called each other friends, they were probably closer to acquaintances. Sam had liked Melissa well enough when they were kids, but something had shifted in their relationship as they'd grown older, and Sam found it harder and harder to completely warm to the woman. Now, the two of them were friends more because it was an easier title to give them than what they actually were. When they were younger they hadn't chosen each others' friendship, it had just been _there_ and neither of them had cared enough to refuse it, but now they were older Sam had the nagging feeling that Melissa was trying to force some kind of closeness on their relationship that they'd never had. Puck had told Sam that he thought the girl was buying into her own hype about being queen, and while Sam had dismissed it all those months ago, now he found the assessment a lot easier to believe. Things with Melissa felt so forced in comparison to how easy it had been with Lark. Sam frowned as he took a sip of his drink.

The thought of marrying Melissa made Sam's stomach feel like lead. She was an ok girl, and certainly beautiful, but she just wasn't what he wanted in a wife. She would make a terrific Queen, of that there was no doubt, but Sam was convinced that there was more to a successful partnership than suitability to the job at hand. Melissa would make a good Queen, but she would also make a _terrible_ life partner. The more she, her parents, the King and Queen, and the media acted as though Melissa would be the de facto Queen, the more Sam found himself leaning towards the idea of refusing to marry at all. It would not be such a bad thing to pass the line of succession down to Stevie, Sam reasoned. His brother was smart and kind-hearted - the kingdom could certainly do worse…

Sam made a mental note to talk to his brother about it sometime later that week.

/

'Who is Melissa Van Stratten?' Quinn demanded, tossing a newspaper in front of where Puck was eating at the deli. Quinn had left the paper open to a picture of Sam with his hand up to cover his eyes as he left a fancy looking restaurant with a leggy brunette following along behind him. The woman had a huge smile on her face, and she hadn't bothered to hide her face as she trailed along with Sam. The prince had only managed to raise his expression to 'bored', but Puck figured that Quinn wasn't focusing on that.

'I thought he was hung up on _Mercy?!_ ' Quinn complained, her hands planted firmly on her hips as she glared at Puck in lieu of being able to glare at Sam.

Puck pushed the newspaper away and put down his sandwich. He nudged the stool next to him out with his foot before inclining his head for Quinn to sit.

'She's some society girl everyone expected him to marry before he met Merce.' Puck explained after he'd swallowed his mouthful of food. 'He doesn't have any feelings for her and he doesn't want to marry her, but he's running out of time and _Mercedes_ is still hiding out.'

He wiped his mouth with a napkin as Quinn considered this.

'Why is time running out?' she asked suspiciously after a moment and, not for the first time, Puck wondered what on earth someone as smart as Quinn was doing making _sandwiches_ for a living.

Puck sighed and made the hasty decision to just tell Quinn all of it, who knew, maybe she could use it somehow to get Mercedes to see Sam again.

'This isn't exactly public knowledge so keep it to yourself, ok?' Puck began, dropping his voice and scooting his stool closer to Quinn's before he took a big breath and just blurted everything out at once.

'Sam has to get married by the time he's 25 or he'll lose his claim to the crown.'

 _ **'WHAT?!**_ '

Quinn's outburst was so loud that several of the patrons in the deli turned to look accusingly at them. The blonde blushed and sank lower in her seat as she smiled and tried to look casual before swivelling around to face Puck again.

'He's almost 25 _now.'_ Quinn noted, her mouth open as she struggled to get her head around this new development. 'Is he even seeing anyone?'

'He was waiting for Mercedes.' Puck admitted with a small shrug, and Quinn's face morphed into a combination of sorrow and awe.

' _Awwwwww!'_

'Yeah.' Puck scoffed, leaning down to take another bite of his sandwich. 'I know, it's sweet and romantic and _blah, blah blah_. What's **not** so sweet is that your girl won't let him _find_ her.'

Quinn pulled a face, although she agreed with what the man was saying, even if she didn't care much for the delivery.

'I'm working on it, but she really believes she's doing what's best.' The blonde girl looked forlornly out of the window at the people strolling past outside. It was a beautiful day, but it wasn't really bringing her the same kind of joy it usually did. 'So now we all just pretend we don't hear her crying herself to sleep at night.'

Puck felt his chest tightening at the image, and found himself admitting Out loud that Sam wasn't much better.

'I don't know what the heck happened in those twenty minutes,' Puck told Quinn, 'but it seems like it was a pretty big deal.'

'Yeah.' Quinn sighed, watching as a young couple walked past the window as if they hadn't a care in the world. 'And now we have _two_ miserable people on our hands because of it.'

'Hurrah for frickin' birthright.' Puck deadpanned, and Quinn sighed, propping her chin on her hand as she nodded sadly in agreement.

'Woo.'


	13. Chapter 13

Mercedes didn't recognise the number that flashed across her screen when her phone rang, and when she tentatively hit the 'Answer' button it was an unfamiliar voice that greeted her.

'I have a proposition for you.'

'Hello?' Mercedes' nose scrunched up in confusion as she frowned into the handset. 'Who is this?'

The male voice on the other end of the line laughed lightly. 'You don't remember me? I'm hurt!'

The voice _did_ sound familiar, but Mercedes still couldn't place it. She was trying to wrack her brains for _where_ she remembered it from when the voice itself provided her with the answer.

'And after all that trouble I went to getting you into that ball…'

Just like that it all came rushing back to her, Mercedes gave a sharp intake of breath as she sat down amidst the laundry she'd been sorting on her bed and gave the caller her full attention.

Mercedes wasn't entirely sure _why_ he was calling her again, but what she did know for _certain_ was that she couldn't afford to get into another situation like the one she'd found herself in last time.

'What do you want?' Mercedes asked warily after a long pause, and she heard the man make a delighted noise through the phone at her question .

'I want you to accompany me to an event.'

Of all the things Mercedes had thought he might say, she could safely admit that this wasn't one of them. She sat in silence for a few moments, waiting for the punchline, before it slowly dawned on her that there _wasn't_ one.

' _Why?_ ' Mercedes asked dubiously, and the man tutted at her tone.

'Can't I just enjoy the company of a good woman?'

'I'm not an escort.' Mercedes reminded him and he laughed at the proclamation like she'd just told the funniest joke in the world.

'And _I_ didn't offer to pay you.' The man told her once he'd finished laughing. ' _Awkward.'_

Mercedes felt the heat rise to her face when she realised that he was right.

'I'm actually a little offended you'd think I'd have to _pay_ for my dates.' The man continued conversationally and Mercedes winced.

'Sorry.'

'Of course,' the man went on as if she hadn't said anything. 'I _would_ pay to outfit you in the manner befitting one of my dates, but I assure you than no money will change hands between _us.'_

Silence descended on the phone line for a long moment after that.

'Miss Jones? This is the point where you say 'yes'.'

There was another long pause before Mercedes trusted herself to answer.

' _I don't know_ …'

'You… don't know.' the man repeated and Mercedes nodded, forgetting for the moment that he couldn't see her.

'The last time I accepted one of your… _engagements_ … things didn't really… work out very well.' Mercedes admitted, glossing over the more painful details just in case he had somehow managed to miss them. 'I'm really not sure if I want to put myself in that position again.'

' _Ah.'_ The man said carefully, finally understanding where she was coming from.

'Well, if it helps,' he began, 'it's a masquerade ball. You could wear a mask the entire time if you wanted - no one needs to recognise you.'

Mercedes mulled that over for a moment and felt a small smile begin to stretch across her lips at the thought. She'd always _wanted_ to attend a masquerade ball, and although it would be ten times of awkward if she ran into anyone who recognised her, it didn't seem all that likely if she was wearing a mask…

'Alright.' Mercedes agreed before she had time to talk herself out of it. 'I'll go.'

'Oh, _fun!_ ' Mercedes laughed as she heard the man punctuating his declaration with a tiny burst of applause. Wherever he was, Mercedes hoped he was alone or else he'd probably look a little eccentric, although she wasn't sure that was such a bad assessment…

'The ball is this Saturday,' he told her, quickly getting down to business now that Mercedes had agreed to go. 'Let me know when you're free so we can get you suitably glammed up.'

Mercedes laughter died out just as quickly as it had started as she abruptly realised the reality of what she'd agreed to.

'Is that… really necessary?' she asked weakly, wondering desperately if it was too late to back out now. Probably, she realised, the man seemed completely incapable of taking no for an answer.

'Oh darling, _yes_.' he told her bluntly and Mercedes winced at his directness. 'Don't worry, by the time we're done with you you'll look like you belong here.'

' _Right_.' Mercedes agreed, her voice uncertain as her mind went unbidden back to the Queen's words. 'Right.'

/

'Hey, Stevie!' Sam called out, jogging down the hallway to catch up to his little brother. 'Do you have a minute?'

Stevie turned and shot Sam a welcoming smile. 'For my favourite brother? Always!'

Sam laughed and ruffled Stevie's mop of short blond hair. 'I'm your _only_ brother, squirt!'

Stevie playfully batted Sam's hands away before running a few paces ahead of his older brother to try and salvage his hair.

'What's up, Sam?'

The older man let out a long, tired breath as they neared the suite of rooms Stevie shared with his twin, Anastasia - or Stacy, for short.

'It's a pretty serious conversation.' Sam confessed, eyeing his fourteen year old brother for signs that he knew what was coming. 'How would you… How _do_ you feel about being king, Stevie?'

Stevie froze in the entryway to his suite and turned slowly to face Sam, who had let himself in and was pushing the door shut behind him.

'Is everything ok, Sam?' Stevie asked with an edge of panic in his voice. 'Did something happen? Are you sick? Oh my god, is that why you've been acting so weird?!'

The young man stumbled over to the armchair placed invitingly in the entryway and tried not to let his thoughts run away with him. Sam was his big brother and, beyond that, he was one of Stevie's closest friends - he couldn't imagine what life would be like without Sam there, he didn't _want_ to imagine…

'I'm not dying!' Sam blurted out when he caught sight of Stevie's panicked face, he raised his hands, palms out in front of him in a placating gesture. 'Stop freaking out!'

It took Stevie a second for the words to sink in, but once they had he was up on his feet and thumping Sam in the arm with his fist.

'Why would you _do_ that to me!' Stevie demanded, switching his fist out in favour of giving his brother a shove. 'I was having a panic attack over there! My heart was beating like, a mile a minute and I was coming out in a cold sweat…' He thumped his brother again for good measure before going back to sit in his comfy chair.

'You know I never much wanted to be king.' Stevie answered thoughtfully once he'd calmed down, wriggling his back to get comfy in the chair. 'But I'm not going to be king so it never mattered.' he gave a small shrug. 'Why are you asking me this?'

Sam bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair. 'I… I'm considering refusing the succession.'

' _What?'_ Stevie was up and out of his chair again but Sam quickly hushed him before pressing him back down into his seat. 'Why would you even be _considering_ that?'

Sam sighed and straightened, absent-mindedly beginning to pace the stretch of hallway in front of Stevie as he filled his brother in on what had been going on for the past few months.

'Wait,' Stevie said once Sam had finished. 'So you're saying that if _I_ want to be king, then I'll have to get married before I'm 25 too?' he pulled a face as if that was the most awful fate in the world and frowned at his brother.

'Well… _yeah_ ,' Sam said reluctantly, chuckling a little at Stevie's disgusted expression. 'I know it sucks, man, but at least you know now. I mean, you'd have eleven years to make that choice.'

'And you only had ten months.' Stevie finished, nodding. 'What about Melissa Van Stratten?'

It was Sam's turn to pull a face at the mention of the young socialite's name, and his obvious aversion to the idea made Stevie giggle at his brother's discomfort.

'So, what you're saying is…' Stevie began, 'you would rather _give up the throne_ than marry someone who isn't this girl you're looking for?' The younger royal looked like as if he couldn't quite get his head around that concept. 'Is she really worth all that?'

Sam thought about the question long and hard before answering. It was possible that he was being a fool - extremely possible, actually - he hadn't known Lark very long, but Sam _did_ know how she'd made him feel _._

 _'Yeah._ Sam nodded slowly. 'I think she is, Steve.' he smiled softly to himself, his eyes on the carpet as he remembered. 'I mean, I know I didn't know her that long, but when I was with her… I was _happy,_ the first time in my _entire_ life I was really, truly happy, and now I've had a taste of that happiness… everything else just pales in comparison, you know?'

Stevie watched his brother's face light up at the memory curiously. It was strange watching features he knew so well arranged in an expression he'd seen so seldom. Stevie had always assumed his brother was happy, but it was only now, watching him talk about a girl he'd known for such a short time, that Stevie realised how far from happy Sam was a lot of the time. It made Stevie feel a little ashamed that he hadn't noticed before, but it also made him more determined to make sure his big brother stayed that way.

'No.' Stevie admitted honestly, his eyes not leaving his brother's face. 'I don't. But I hope I get to find out one day.'

Sam offered up a small smile in thanks before returning his gaze to his large hands.

'I don't really want to be king, Sam.' Stevie admitted after they'd sat in silence for a while. 'And I don't know much about putting the kingdom first yet, because I've never had to.'

Sam winced as he wondered for the hundredth time if he were doing the right thing for the country by refusing the succession, or if he were simply serving himself.

'But I love you, Sam, and your happiness is something I've never needed to be _taught_ to consider.'

Stevie took a deep breath, aware that what he was about to say next could have major repercussions for him, his family and the entire kingdom.

'What are you saying?' Sam pressed carefully, his green eyes shining with a hope that both strengthened Stevie's resolve and assured him he was making the right decision.

'I'm saying that I will accept the crown, Sam.' Stevie clarified, his eyes steady on his brother's. 'If it means that I will get to see you happy, then I will accept it gladly.'

Sam stared at his brother with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude for a few seconds that felt like minutes before he pulled the younger man into a tight hug, the tears spilling over his cheeks as he held his brother firm against him.

'Of course,' Stevie ventured once Sam had let him go and they'd both hastily swiped at their streaming eyes. 'I would prefer it if you would just find your Lark already and marry _her_ before you're twenty-five.'

He shrugged unapologetically at the sidelong look Sam gave him and grinned.

'Jus' sayin'.' he quipped and laughed as Sam left his chambers.


	14. Chapter 14

Mercedes stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror in the large estate house and wondered seriously if she was maybe a little bit insane.

She was wearing a floor length gown in a stunning plum colour that was made of layers upon layers of a light, floaty fabric that draped beautifully around Mercedes' curves and pooled delicately at her feet. The off the shoulder neckline dipped into a shallow 'v' that gave the barest hint of cleavage, whilst still showing off expanses of shimmering cocoa coloured skin. Extra layers of the same light fabric in a subdued shade of lavender gathered at the back of the dress at Mercedes' shoulder blades, and moved in such a way that the fabric fluttered gently behind Mercedes like soft, gossamer wings whenever she moved.

The dress made Mercedes feel like a princess, and she tried hard not to dwell on the irony of that particular statement as she regarded herself in the mirror.

The man she was accompanying must have spent a small fortune on her, because he'd also hired a team of experts to do her hair and make-up in preparation for the ball. Mercedes could safely say that she'd never felt so pampered in all her life,but she had enjoyed it. The team had styled her hair simply into a half up half down do, with tiny braids and soft curls forming a graceful chignon that merged elegantly with the large, loose barrel curls tumbling glossy and effortless down Mercedes' back.

She fingered a curl in the mirror and watched as it spring back to its original position as soon as she let go. The team really had done a wonderful job, but Mercedes was beginning to have doubts about the whole thing. She sighed at her reflection and narrowly avoided messing up her long, white gloves by resting her chin on her hand. The make up artists had done an expert job, choosing a soft, dewy look instead of the statement looks many women tended to wear at masquerades. 'It looks gaudy,' the make-up artist had told Mercedes as he'd expertly applied mascara to her long eyelashes. 'Trust me, you'll shine like a prized jewel amongst plastic baubles this way.'

Mercedes had had to smile at his optimistic assessment, even if she wasn't entirely convinced by it. But she didn't have to be, Mercedes reminded herself. She didn't really want to stand out, after all. She just wanted to go and get it all out of her system. She didn't need to be noticed for that.

After a while, Mercedes wasn't sure how long, a man appeared behind the reflection she'd been staring at so intently and wrapped his arms around her. Propping his head on Mercedes shoulder he mimicked her intense expression as he studied their faces side by side.

'You look beautiful.' he told Mercedes warmly, his eyes dancing as he smiled at the picture the two of them made. 'But it seems that you're missing one, very important, thing…'

Detaching himself from Mercedes' shoulders, the man turned to reach for something behind him. When he brought his hand back into view, Mercedes saw that he was holding an elegant half-mask made of lace and tiny, glistening beads. It had been dyed the same shade of purple as Mercedes' dress, and when he fastened the two lavender coloured ribbons behind Mercedes' head, she found that the fabric moulded to her face like a second skin.

'Absolutely stunning, my dear.' The man told her reflection in the mirror. His lips quirking in a half smile that Mercedes tried, but failed, to return.

'Thank you.' Mercedes mumbled, her fingers tracing one of the folds in her skirt.

'Why are you doing this?' she ask after a moment, turning to address the man behind her instead of just his reflection. 'I thought Fairy Godparents were supposed to make you feel _better?'_ She asked semi-seriously, before adding. _'I don't feel better_.'

'Well, I'm not sure how I feel about the 'fairy' part…' her date began, his brow creasing in mock affront, but then he sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. The lines in his brow eased out and ebbed away as the man straightened and made his way over to the bed that sat in the middle of the guest bedroom Mercedes was currently occupying. It was conveniently situated directly opposite Mercedes' dressing table, and he carefully at the foot of it, facing Mercedes. Once he'd sat, the man dropped his elbows to his knees and prepared to answer Mercedes' question in earnest.

'I'm doing this because you need to see him again.' the man explained, 'even if it's just for closure.'

'I'm not sure I _want_ to.'

Leaning over to take one of Mercedes' small hands between both of his own, the man nodded sympathetically.

'I know you're not, Sweetie, but it's just going to keep hurting you until you've learned to move on, and I think you need to go back to where it all began to do that.'

Mercedes nodded silently as she looked at her date's large, pale hands wrapped around her own.

'You're right.' she agreed, managing a weak smile. 'And he never needs to know I'm there, right?'

'Right.' the man agreed with a decisive nod, grateful that Mercedes couldn't hear his thoughts.

'He _does,'_ the man was thinking, _'_ and he _will.'_

 _/_

Sam straightened his white bow tie in the mirror and pulled a face at his reflection. There really were no words for how much he _didn't_ want to attend this ball. All it did was remind him that he still hadn't found Lark, and on top of that, his parents (but really, his mother) kept _insisting_ that Sam 'entertain the young ladies'.

Sam huffed a sigh into the mirror and looked into the sorrowful green eyes that stared back at him. It was probably high time that he faced the fact that he probably wouldn't find her, Sam decided. Lark was gone, and his mother was right: he should be using the short time he had left before his 25th birthday to find a way to love one of those other girls, like Melissa or Eloise. Sam really couldn't blame his mother for insisting that he try.

Except…. _not_ at a ball _,_ Sam pleaded silently. He just couldn't do it, not when the memory of the real thing was still so vivid in his memory. They couldn't expect him to make love to someone else when every swish of silk and strain of music reminded him of what he'd lost.

Sam was still staring, hollow-eyed, at himself a short while later when Puck knocked on his door and weirdly, - for Puck, at least - waited for Sam to invite him in before he poked his head around the door.

Puck had been acting strangely around Sam lately. The blond had noticed, but hadn't really had the time to tackle it with all the other things going on in his life. Now, however, Sam noted how Puck refused to meet his eyes, and how his sentences these days were often short and to the point, instead of the friendly banter the two of them had shared before. Something was definitely up, and Sam resolved to get to the bottom of it sooner rather than later, maybe tomorrow, Sam mused, when he'd be free to talk without having his time monopolised by wannabe royals.

'Hey man,' Puck greeted as he gave Sam a tight, distracted smile. 'Are you ready to go down? Your parents are waiting.'

Sam nodded, but turned to give himself a quick final once over in the mirror before leaving, double checking to make certain that he hadn't somehow soiled his pristine white tie ensemble. Satisfied, Sam turned and gestured for Puck to lead the way down to the ball.

'Ready as I'll ever be.'


	15. Chapter 15

Mercedes watched yet another ball guest give her a subtle once over and gripped her date's arm tighter in her gloved hand. She was trying not to let the tension show on her face, but her hands were a different story.

'People keep staring at us.' Mercedes whispered uneasily when her date dipped his head to make sure she was alright.

'They're probably just trying to contain their jealousy.' he dismissed easily as he waved at someone across the room who'd called out to him.

He was wearing a plain black eye mask in honour of the masquerade, but it didn't seem to do much to hide his identity. Mercedes' date smiled graciously at the people they passed, but his sharp eyes didn't miss the curious looks being cast in Mercedes' direction. He considered introducing her, but then decided against it. He could feel Mercedes' tension running through the arm she'd linked with his, and he'd already had a tough enough time getting her to the ball in the first place, the last thing he'd want to do is make her _more_ uncomfortable. He wanted - no - he _needed_ her to stay.

'We _do_ make a rather attractive couple.'

Mercedes nodded distractedly, too wound up to notice her dates' attempts to lighten the mood. She bit her lip feeling very exposed and self-conscious, despite the mask she was wearing, and took a step closer to nestle deeper into his side. 'Do you think they know?'

Her date laughed and patted the hand that she'd curled tightly around his bicep, taking a moment to carefully prise her fingers off the expensive fabric of his jacket sleeve before taking her hand reassuringly in his own.

'Sweetheart, I think they're probably all too sloshed or stuck up to care.'

Mercedes looked far from placated, but she plastered a smile on her expertly painted lips and tilted her chin a fraction higher anyway as he continued to lead her around the room. Every now and again someone would stop him and look curiously at her, but her date was a master at the nameless introduction and every single one of them left without being any the wiser as to who Mercedes was.

Mercedes' date could feel how tense she got every time someone approached them, and he felt a rush of relief when the orchestra started up. Music meant dancing, and dancing meant he could keep her away from nosy courtiers with too much gumption. He took a moment to straighten his plain black mask when he caught Mercedes lifting a hand to check the security of hers for what must have been the millionth time since they'd left his estate.

'Dance with me.'

'I don't-' Mercedes tried to protest, but she'd barely gotten the words out before her date had swept her up in a waltz and rendered her objections useless.

At least dancing with her date distracted her from worrying about seeing Sam again, Mercedes reasoned as she was spun expertly around the dance floor, and by the time her companion finally walked her off the floor an impressive six dances later, Sam was already dutifully engaged in conversation with Melissa, and completely out of Mercedes' sight.

'Straight for the Van Stratten girl.' Mercedes overheard an older woman mutter to her friend as she waved a fan lazily in front of her face. The woman was exquisitely clad in a long-sleeved dress made of blue silk, while her friend's dress was almost identical but this time in burgundy. 'Not even a hint of a hesitation.'

The women's eyes were trained firmly on someone across the ballroom, but Mercedes couldn't see who. Her dance partner had deposited her gently on a chair with instructions to "rest her tired feet", and then he'd disappeared in search of refreshments, promising not to return until he'd found her something to drink.

'I knew he would.' the woman in burgundy agreed, 'I ran into Maria Roseau-James at the club last week and _she_ said that it's apparently all over the palace that he's going to marry her.'

Mercedes circled an ankle and wiggled her toes inside her designer heels as she half-listened to the conversation going on in front of her. She had no idea who these women were gossiping about, but it was helping to take Mercedes' mind off how sore her feet were - and how exposed she felt sharing a ballroom with Sam.

'What about that other girl?' the woman in blue questioned curiously, her eyes following whoever it was across the room. 'He made such a huge fuss about finding her…'

 _About_ _ **finding**_ _her?_

Mercedes felt her ears prick up at the woman's choice of words, but forced herself not to jump to conclusions. It was a peculiar turn of phrase, true, but that didn't mean that they were talking about…

'I _know,'_ the woman in burgundy agreed, 'and on national television too.' She gave a small tut of disapproval. 'But then again, Prince Samuel always has been a little… _unorthodox.'_

The woman in blue nodded her head rapidly at this assessment, completely oblivious to the fact that, behind them, Mercedes felt like her throat was closing up.

He was moving on.

Sam was moving on.

She had no right to be upset, Mercedes chastised herself. _She'd_ made the choice to stay out of Sam's life… but… but he'd made such a _fuss_ about finding _her_ , Mercedes thought ungraciously. And now he was thinking of marrying someone else?

The women moved away, as swiftly and gracefully as clouds parting to reveal the sun, and just as swiftly Mercedes spotted him. Tall and handsome in his black dinner jacket and white tie, Sam was regaling a small group of people with a story that seemed to send them all into fits of giggles. Mercedes watched them with an unfamiliar feeling swelling in her chest as she wondered which one was 'The Van Stratten Girl'. After watching them for a few minutes she fancied she could guess - The dark haired woman with long, long legs looked at Sam in a way that hovered somewhere between possessive and expectant, Mercedes noted, and she kept _touching_ him. They were subtle little touches that Sam probably didn't even notice, but they practically screamed ' _Back off, he's mine.'_ to the other women in the group.

'There's a woman that knows she's about to be Queen.' Mercedes thought sadly, and then felt the familiar tightening of her throat again.

Mercedes suddenly couldn't remember why she'd let herself be talked into this. The whole thing was beginning to feel like a horrific farce in which she was the central character of ridicule. The pain in her feet forgotten, Mercedes rose and headed back to where she knew the palace gardens to be. She needed air, and she also needed to get away from these people. She couldn't just leave - Mercedes wouldn't do that to her date, but she needed to get away from the constant pressure of being reminded that she wasn't good enough. Her benefactor had told her that she would look like she belonged there, and in a way she did, but Mercedes knew the truth - that she was just a poor girl in a borrowed dress, pretending at being special. Looking around the glittering ballroom, it was obvious to Mercedes that the only thing that made her special here, was that she wasn't anything like the refined, expensive-looking people around her.

The cool air soothed Mercedes' flushed skin and she let out a welcome breath of relief as she slipped through the side doors into the gardens. Closing her eyes for a moment, she let the comforting scents of lavender and honeysuckle wash over her and ease the tension from her body. This was the one place in the palace where Mercedes had ever truly felt like she could belong, although she'd also had Sam at her side then, Mercedes recalled. Engulfed in the peace of the garden, she let her thoughts drift back to that night all those months ago. Her date had told her that, to leave all this behind, Mercedes would have to come full circle, and that was what she was doing. Maybe once she was done she'd finally be able to walk away from her feelings as easily as she could leave this garden.

Mercedes was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't register the footsteps of the other ball guest as they too escaped to the quiet sanctuary of the garden. She heard them when they spoke to her, though, their tone annoyed as they addressed her turned back.

'The gardens are off limits to guests.'

Sam glared at the back of the strange woman's head with a mixture of irritation and hurt.

She hadn't been doing anything wrong, per se - it looked like she was just taking the time to silently admire the flowers - but Sam hadn't expected to see her when he'd come out here, and her presence had jarred him.

He'd hoped that by coming here he would be able to escape the oppressive loneliness of a ballroom full of people for a little while. He'd wanted to sit in what he couldn't help but think of as ' _their_ spot' and just _remember_ her

… but now this stranger had ruined it, and it didn't help that from the back she almost resembled his Lark. Sam didn't suppose Lark possessed anything as fine as what the woman was wearing, though, not if the dress she'd worn to his birthday was any indication. Not to mention there was no _way_ Lark was a courtier, which meant that she wouldn't have been on the guest list.

Sam folded his arms across his chest, not caring that it wasn't a princely thing to do, and waited impatiently as the woman began to apologise.

'I'm sorry, I just needed to get some air and I…'

 _No._

Sam's arms loosened at the sound of the woman's voice, and he stared hard at the side of her downturned face trying to discern recognisable features through darkness and a lace mask.

 _It_ **couldn't** _be._

 _Turn around,_ Sam willed, his heart beating wildly in his chest as his arms dropped to his sides. _**Turn around.**_

 _ **'**_ _…_ I thought it would be ok to come out here for a little while,'

Sam had lost track of what she was saying. He was too busy mentally comparing the contours of her face to-

'I'm sorry, I didn't know. I'll just-'

 _The curve of her cheek,_ Sam noted, _the little swell of her nose…_ He took an involuntary half step closer before he stopped himself. It could be a mistake, or an illusion, or someone else entirely… _Turn around._ Sam mentally prompted again, his whole body thrumming with tension. _Turn_ _ **around.**_

As if hearing his thoughts, the woman finally glanced back at him over her smooth, bare shoulder…

…And that was all Sam needed.

He recognised her instantly. Even with a mask covering half her face and seven months to cloud his memory, Sam just _knew_ it was her.

 _'You.'_

Sam's voice came out barely louder than a whisper, but the garden was so quiet that he was sure Lark had heard him anyway. Her glossy, plump mouth fell into a little 'o' of shock as she turned and caught sight of him, and Sam thought he heard the soft hitch of breath as it caught in her throat. She looked shellshocked to find him less than ten yards from her, but Sam knew that his own expression probably didn't look that much different to hers.

It was as if they were blanketed by a silence that only grew thicker and heavier with each passing second. The rustle of the wind through the trees, the trickle of birdsong from somewhere deep within the dog rose bushes and even the faint strains of music that drifted out from the ballroom seemed to fade away as the two figures stood staring dazedly at each other, their words dying on their tongues and falling unspoken somewhere amidst the ambrosia flowers and lily of the valley.


	16. Chapter 16

Mercedes' breath came out in short, ragged bursts as she stared up at the tall blond man in front of her. He'd become an immovable feature in her thoughts these past few months, and Mercedes would be lying if she said that she hadn't imagined this meeting a million times in the seven months since they'd first met. But having him actually _there_ was something else entirely. It was real.

 _Oh._ Mercedes thought helplessly as she continued to stare up at Sam's motionless figure. _Oh dear._

Her brain was racing as Mercedes tried to figure out what to do in this situation - what to _say._ She waited patiently, hopefully, for the flash of inspiration, but her usually helpful brain seemed to be stuck on the fact that Prince Samuel Garrett Fitzwilliam Evans was standing in front of her.

 _Sam_ was standing _in front of her._

Oh God.

Why wasn't he _saying_ anything? Mercedes wondered, feeling irrationally annoyed at him for not speaking, even though she wasn't either. It wasn't like the silence was helping either of them. _Maybe,_ Mercedes mused distractedly, maybe if she just started talking, the right words would just, sort of… _fall out?_

She took a deep breath and then opened her mouth to speak.

'Sa-'

Sam didn't wait for her to finish.

He'd closed the short distance between them and had his lips pressed longingly against Mercedes' in less time than it had taken her to speak his name. She let out a soft moan against Sam's lips as his arms wound around her waist, her generous curves welcoming his large hands as he gently tugged her nearer to him. He needed her closer, even with her lips moved desperately against his it didn't feel close enough. Sam had been starved of her for so long, and now he wanted to clothe himself in her presence, to _bask_ in her. Sam let out a groan as he sucked Lark's lower lip into his mouth and slowly stroked his tongue along the swollen, captured flesh, his body practically crackling with electricity when she hummed against his touch.

Sam's grip on her waist tightened, but he resisted the urge to pull Lark flush against him. She seemed more than happy with the way things were going, but he was careful to give her every chance to pull away if she wanted to. Sam's heart beat harder in his chest as he edged her closer, and but he could have sworn that it sputtered to a stop when Lark ignored his cautious ministrations and pressed the length of her soft, zaftig body against his front.

Lark's plush, feminine curves seemed to mould against Sam's chest and she clutched at him like a life raft as seven months worth of longing, relief and desire poured out between them into one long, heated kiss.

Mercedes could feel Sam's hands burning hot on her through the fabric of her dress, and a sound halfway between a moan and a sigh escaped her lips as her body came into contact with Sam's hard muscle. She stood on tiptoe, wanting to be closer to him, but it wasn't enough. Mercedes let out a small grunt of frustration and then reached up a small hand to wrap around Sam's neck, dragging his head down so she could run her tongue greedily along his top lip before nipping at it gently with her teeth. Mercedes let out a contented sigh as Sam's answering smile tickled at her lips and she parted them gratefully as his tongue began to tease playfully at the seam of her mouth. Sam's grip tightened around her as he drew her tongue into his mouth, and it felt like every stroke of his large, capable hands sent fire dancing along Mercedes' skin as their tongues curled together in ecstasy.

…There was probably some part of Mercedes that realised that this wasn't the path to closure, but whichever part it was, it couldn't be heard past the rush of blood in Mercedes' ears, or the Hallelujah chorus currently being sung in glorious eight-part harmony in her brain.

Sam's hand tangled eagerly in her hair, but Mercedes was too far gone to worry about what it might look like after he was done. The man was drinking her in like she was the elixir of life and he would die without her, and for all her carefully laid plans, Mercedes realised that she really didn't give a crap if this was wrong, because it feltso _right_.

Smoothing her thumbs along the baby soft hair at Sam's temples, Mercedes sighed happily against his lips as the breath fanning out across her cheek faltered, and then started up again in ragged, heavily bursts. _She_ had that effect on him, Mercedes realised, _her,_ Mercedes Jones, but she didn't have time to dwell on her new found power, because fairly soon Sam was showing her that he had a few powers of his own.

At some point they must have started moving, but the fact escaped Mercedes until they stopped, and her back met the cool stone of a solid, ivy-covered brick wall. She broke the kiss in surprise and took a nano-second to appreciate the change in scenery then her small hands were on the silken lapels of Sam's jacket, sliding gracefully along the fabric until she could yank him closer and connect her lips with his again.

Any remaining thoughts Mercedes might have had after that were swallowed by the rush of emotions that flooded through her as they broke apart. Her body missed his the instant he was gone, and she leaned forward, trying to reclaim his warmth. Sam let out a deep, awe-struck breath and leaned against the wall above Mercedes' head, his body curved protectively around her, and the flushed heat radiating from his skin made their lack of contact less startling.

Sam looked down at her, his eyes warm and a little glazed as his smile stretched loose and inviting into a lopsided grin, his lips parting to reveal straight white teeth that glistened like pearls underneath the moonlight. Mercedes gave him an equally dazed smile of her own, and then bit her lip to stifle her gasp as she felt at the tingle of Sam's hand moving along her hip to finger one of the thin floaty layers of her skirt.

They both burst into brief peals of breathless laughter and then stopped abruptly, the sound immediately dissipating into the night. They stood in an awkward silence, their gazes flitting onto anything, and everything, but each other as their cheeks flamed hot and burning against the cool evening air. Like bashful five year olds, the two of them scuffed their feet along the ground and swung their arms against their sides as they tried to make sense of what had just happened, and where they went from here.

Sam couldn't believe he'd just done that.

Lark had _just_ seen him again, after seven months, and he'd practically mauled her. He felt more blood rushing to his cheeks as his blush deepened and tried desperately to regroup. He'd probably scared her off now, Sam thought, internally kicking himself. Lark was probably thinking of him as _Prince Grabby Hands_ and making plans to escape from his presence for good, that was probably why she wasn't saying anything. That, or he'd literally sucked the speech out of her.

Sam looked down at his hand holding onto the fabric of Lark's skirt, and wondered if it was all that was keeping her with him. He should probably let go, Sam decided, and then tried to will his fingers to open and let go of the thin fabric…

… But he couldn't. Sam watched as the material held stubbornly firm between his closed fingers and let his eyes fall shut for a second.

He didn't _want_ to let her go, Sam realised, because… well… because _what if that was it_? What if it _was_ the only thing keeping her here? If he let Lark go now then she might disappear, and then she'd be lost forever - like smoke on the wind.

Sam shook his head to rid himself of those horrible doubts and dropped his forehead to Lark's. His eyes were still closed. Truthfully, Sam was slightly worried that she'd be gone when he opened them, and he wanted so desperately to savour her. Right now Lark was in his arms, and if this was going to be the last time that would happen, then Sam wanted to make sure that the moment was etched in his memory forever.

He wanted to remember the feel of Lark's soft skin beneath his fingertips, and the taste of her lipstick lingering on his tongue. He wanted to remember the sound of her soft sighs as he'd kissed her, and the press of her against him. His Lark even _smelled_ beautiful, Sam noted, his nose flaring as he tried to drink in as much of her intoxicating scent as possible.

She was perfect.

She was _here._

Sam could feel the steady rhythm of Lark's breathing against his kiss-swollen lips, and he allowed himself a contented sigh at the feel of her arms sliding tenderly under his jacket and around his waist. He could feel her small fingers playing with the fastening at the back of his waistcoat, and he smiled at how casual the action seemed. Sam never would have guessed when he'd reluctantly put the waistcoat on, that, mere hours later, Lark's small fingers would find their way to the same fastening.

'Are you real?'

Sam kept his eyes closed as he asked the question, just in case her answer was 'no'. He wasn't sure he would mind so much if she wasn't, just so long as she didn't let him go again.

Her answering soft chuckle had Sam's eyes blinking open in surprise, and he felt the relief coursing through him like a wave as soon as he saw that she was still there. Sam hadn't fully discounted the theory that she was some sort of sprite who would fade out of existence as soon as he'd closed his eyes, until he'd opened them and found her still in front of him. Maybe she was really real, and that hope coupled with the sound of her laughter made Sam's burgeoning smile grow even wider, though he wasn't entirely sure what was so funny.

'You better hope so, Kermy.' Lark told him, her voice just as hushed as his had been as her hands ghosted along his chest. 'Otherwise, you just gave the air one _hell_ of a soul kiss.'

Sam pulled a face at the embarrassing image, but it dropped back into a smile when Lark giggled and raised a single bare shoulder in a shrug. He shook his head at her in mock annoyance, and then let the fabric of her dress slide through his fingers until he gently found her hand, his skin grazing delicately against hers as he swiped a thumb across the back of her hand.

Her hand slipped into his with the same kind of natural ease that came with all their interactions, and Sam's fingers curled protectively around Lark's as the two of them began to walk around the grounds.

'Ok, now I _know_ you're real.' Sam pointed out, a blush tingeing his ears pink despite his wide smile as they slowly strolled around the large gardens together. 'I'm pretty sure my subconscious would make me seem more badass than that.'

Lark pretended to look confused for a second, even going so far as to tap her chin with her finger in thoughtful contemplation.

'Are you sure?' she teased sweetly. 'Has your subconscious _met_ you?'

Sam gasped like he'd been wounded and raised his free hand to clutch dramatically at his heart.

'Low blow.' he complained, staggering a bit for effect. ' _Low. Blow!_ '

Mercedes raised both her eyebrows at him so he knew how susceptible she was to his protests, but aimed a quick kiss at his cheek afterwards.

'Badass is overrated.' She explained in a matter-of-fact tone. 'I like my princes dorky.'

Sam raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked questioningly at her.

'"Princes" _plural_?' he asked. 'You been cheatin' on me, Beautiful?'

Mercedes grinned and demurely fluttered her eyelashes at him.

'Well, Charming put his bid in, but I had to turn him down.' she told him , her eyes glittering with amusement as she casually sauntered over to a nearby rose bush.

'He was too polished.' she stated thoughtfully, her head cocked to one side as her fingers danced over the velveteen petals of a rose. 'Turns out, blindingly shiny armour and white stallions just aren't my thing.'

She shrugged, and then turned in time to catch Sam looking at her with a quietly contemplative look on his face. Shooting him a reassuring smile to show that she was joking, Mercedes stepped away from the roses and drew level with the blond prince again, her hand firm in his as she took in his serious expression.

'What if my armour's shiny too?' Sam asked cautiously once Mercedes had come back from the flowers. He kept his eyes trained on their intertwined hands as he waited anxiously for an answer, and Mercedes sensed that he was asking something more than just his words suggested. Mercedes could feel Sam's thumb tracing circles on her skin, and even though she'd known him for less than twenty-four hours, she somehow knew that he was trying to find some comfort in it.

Mercedes tugged on his hand to stop Sam from walking and then moved in front of him. She waited patiently until his olive coloured eyes met hers, and then held them with her own so he would be sure he had her full attention.

'Your armour _is_ shiny,' Mercedes began, her tone assertive as she wrapped her other hand around the one she already held. '…but it isn't blinding.'

Mercedes sighed and looked down at his pale hand sandwiched between hers, and tried to find the right words to explain how she saw him.

'You've… you've _lived_ in yours.' she went on after a moment. 'You've fought _battles_ in yours…'

Mercedes bit her lip and squeezed Sam's hand between her own.

'I get the feeling that your armour… that it isn't a costume for you.' Mercedes sighed and removed her top hand so they could resume walking again, Sam following along silently beside her.

'I think you really _are_ that guy.' she finished quietly, and then looked up at him, her round face shining with sincerity.

Sam's eyes raked over Lark's pretty, upturned face and nodded as he thought about it.

'I think I am with you.' he admitted finally, and then looked apologetic. 'But I'm pretty sure I've been the guy in the too-bright armour before, too.'

Sam hadn't been sure how Lark would react to that, but she surprised him by flashing a proud smile at him, the sight of which seemed to release warm, fluttering butterflies into the pit of Sam's stomach.

'That's how I know _you're_ real.' Lark told him softly, nudging him gently with her shoulder before tugging on his hand to get him to keep up as she went to admire another vista.

The two of them walked for a few more minutes in silence, stopping every so often so that Mercedes could admire something, and Sam could admire Mercedes. After a while, Sam took a deep breath and forced himself to voice the concern that had been feeding the lingering doubts in the back of his mind. He didn't want to ask, but he knew that if he wanted to pursue anything with Lark then he'd have to.

'Did you know that I looked for you?' Sam asked after they'd made their way about halfway round the garden. His voice was quiet, but Mercedes couldn't deny that she'd heard what he'd said, even though a part of her wanted to. It was a question she'd been dreading, and her heart constricted painfully in her chest when she saw the look of sadness painted across Sam's face as he spoke.

'I… _yes_.' Mercedes admitted softly, shifting her gaze to the flowers they passed so she wouldn't have to risk seeing the accusation in his eyes. 'I'm sorry.'

'Why didn't you…'

Sam licked his lips as he trailed off, not even wanting to ask the question. He went to run a hand through his hair, but at the last minute he remembered that it was gelled, so he tried to shove a hand in his pocket instead, only to remember that he didn't have any. Sam let out a grunt of frustration and settled finally for plucking at the leaves of a nearby bush before he could find the words to speak again.

'Did you not… did you not _want_ me?' Sam managed finally. His large green eyes were hooded as he looked into Mercedes' face, and he looked so vulnerable and hurt that her heart instantly ached for him. 'Was I not-'

'I didn't know.' she clarified, running a gentle hand along his chest to stop the dark thoughts that were no doubt clouding his mind.

'I didn't know you were looking for me for a long time. And then when I found out I…'

Belatedly, Mercedes remembered that the Queen had implored her not to tell Sam about her visit to the palace, and even though it didn't seem like it would make much of a difference to anything now, Mercedes made the split second decision not to mention it. It didn't seem helpful anyway.

'When I found out, I wanted to come and see you,' Mercedes hedged, 'but then I realised that I… I don't _fit_ in in this world, and I didn't want to hurt you, so I…'

'So you stayed lost.' Sam finished, looking like he understood her reasoning, but didn't particularly like it as she nodded.

'Can I tell you something, Lark?'

Mercedes brow furrowed infinitesimally at the name, but it was enough to make Sam's nose wrinkle in embarrassment at his own negligence.

'Sorry.' he apologised, looking at her through his lashes. ' _Lark_ is what I've been calling you, because… I _didn't know your name_.'

Sam stopped, the realisation that he'd failed to ask the most obvious question hitting him like a ton of bricks.

'I _still_ don'tknow your name!' Sam pointed out in complete shock. 'What is it?'

Mercedes watched in amusement as he worried his plump bottom lip with his teeth while waiting for her answer, and smiled to herself at the sudden urgent expression on his face now that he'd realised his mistake.

'It's Mercedes.' she told him, having decided _not_ to milk the moment. 'Mercedes Celadonia Jones- _Why are you laughing_?'

Sam had visibly relaxed and let out a heavy, relieved sigh as soon as _Mercedes_ had told him her first name, but a wide smile had grown on his face as soon as he'd heard her second, and he _may_ have followed it with a stray chuckle or two.

'Celadonia.' Sam said with emphasis, as if that was somehow an explanation in itself. He continued when Mercedes just blinked at him, clearly not understanding.

'It means 'A swallow' in Latin.' Sam explained, a sheepish grin on his face as he liften his shoulders in a helpless shrug. ' _I got the wrong bird._ '

Mercedes smiled, understanding dawning, and reached up a hand to tenderly cup Sam's cheek.

'It's not like I gave you much to go on.' she pointed out gently, her tone congratulatory. 'I think you did pretty good, considering! It could have been a lot worse.'

'Like?' Sam prompted.

'Like…' Mercedes thought for a moment. 'Like "A piece of 8."'

Immediately they both sang, 'A piece of eiiiiiiggghhhttt!' and then burst out laughing.

'You are _such_ a dork!'

'I know!' Mercedes agreed without a hint of shame, and shook her head at the truth of it. 'Do you regret finding me now?'

Sam watched her move beguilingly alongside him, her skin glistening like the finest silk beneath the reflected lights from the palace windows. The dark clouds that had loomed over Sam's life for as long as he could remember already felt lighter, and Sam knew that it was because of her. Her light made _him_ feel light, Sam realised. It was as if Mercedes had come along and used the incredible brightness that shone from within her to ignite the dormant light within him. Sam hadn't even been sure he'd had a light to shine before he'd met her, but now? Now Sam felt like he could do anything, and _she'_ d given him that.

Sam's eyes were steady and serious as he released Mercedes' hand so he could wrap an arm around her shoulders and tuck her close into his side.

'Never.' he promised firmly, and when Mercedes looked up at him she could see that he meant it.

' _Mercedes_.' Sam said after a moment, trying out the word on his tongue. ' _Mer-ce-des_.' He grinned. 'I like it. It's almost as beautiful as you.'

Still reeling from Sam's earlier comment, Mercedes blushed and stammered out a response as she tried to hide how much it had affected her.

'Wow!' she teased, nudging him gently with her shoulder. 'That was a real _Charming_ comment!'

It was a pretty lame joke, Mercedes knew, definitely not one of her best, but Sam laughed and then shrugged, his smile not even close to apologetic as he gave her a quick squeeze.

'I call it like I see it.' he told her. 'Besides, you said it yourself, my armour's still shiny. If that means I make the occasional charming comment, then… _so be it._ ' Sam said the last words in a whisper, and then proceeded to strike a noble pose while backlit by one of the lights hidden in the flower beds. Mercedes watched him in silence and then sighed fondly, fixing him with a look as he chanced positions and struck a second pose.

'And you called _me_ a dork!'

Sam straightened and grinned at her, his face open and happy as he ambled back and extended his hand out for her to take. Mercedes let out a squeal of surprise when Sam used the hand she'd slipped into his to tug her closer until she bumped against his chest. His fingers entwined playfully with hers. Mercedes attempted to bite back the smile that threatened to spread beatifically across her face, but it didn't escape Sam.

'You _like_ it.'

Mercedes couldn't help but laugh at his self-satisfied smirk, but her voice and lashes lowered as she bit her lip and decided to confess the truth.

'Yeah…' she admitted, looking up at him self-consciously through her eyelashes. 'I kinda _do_.'

Neither of them broke eye contact, but the slow smile that spread across Sam's face was unmistakably ecstatic as her admission washed over him. She liked _him,_ Sam realised in astonishment. Mercedes liked the _real_ him - not just the 'Prince' part. In fact, it was the prince part that she'd run from, Sam noted, his skin tingling with the realisation.

She.

Liked.

 _Him._

Sam was wondering if it would be appropriate to break into a celebratory body roll when Mercedes stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips against his in a gentle, sweet kiss.

It was completely unlike the one they had shared earlier, but it was just as wonderful in its own way. Where the first had been passionate and filled with longing, this one was tender and filled with promise and Sam could feel his heart beating irregularly in his chest as he tried to control the giddy excitement he felt at her touch. He'd _found_ her,finally.

No, that was wrong, Sam corrected mentally, a dopey grin stretching across his face as his lips worked against hers. They'd found _each other._

Sam and Mercedes breathed out a few unsure giggles as they pulled apart, both of them still unused to the overwhelming sensations that came with kissing each other. They had a few seconds of _'what do we do now?'_ awkwardness before Sam cleared his throat and tenderly brushed a strand of hair behind Mercedes ear. He gave her a little sheepish shrug for no real reason when she smiled at him, and then confidently reached for her hand before starting off along the path again .

'I still can't quite believe you're actually here.' Sam said as he swung their joined hands merrily between them as they walked. 'How did you even get in?'

'I'm Sebastian's date.' Mercedes said, a smile lingering on her lips at the joyful motion of their hands. 'He said it would be good closure, so…'

She trailed off when Sam tensed at the name and their swinging hands abruptly stilled between them. Confusion marred Mercedes' pretty features and she stared up at Sam curiously as she tried to figure out what she'd said wrong.

'Sebastian… _Smythe_?' Sam clarified, his voice sounding oddly strained. 'My _cousin_ , Sebastian Smythe?'

Mercedes frowned slightly, but nodded in answer to his question.

'I didn't know you were related,' Mercedes told him, quickly realising that her masquerade date might not have been as honest with Sam as he had been with her. 'But yes, I came here with Sebastian Smythe.'

Sam's jaw clenched at the revelation, but for Mercedes' sake he forced himself to not let his anger get the better of him. She was here _now,_ whereas Sam could, and definitely _would,_ confront Sebastian later _._

 _'_ I didn't realise you knew him.' Sam said, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

Mercedes nodded cautiously, and then cocked her head as she considered what she already knew against Sam's reaction.

'He booked me for that first gig.' She explained, not quite understanding why Sebastian wouldn't have mentioned that. 'He didn't tell you?'

'No.' Sam shook his head steadily and thought darkly of the very stern words he'd be having with his cousin in the very near future.

'No, he didn't.'


	17. Chapter 17

Queen Mary passed a discerning eye over the crowded ballroom and allowed a slow, satisfied smile to steal onto her face. Everything was going _wonderfully._ The ball was a success, and for once, Sam seemed to be making a real effort to talk to the eligible women in the room instead of hiding out like some sort of privileged hermit. Everyone looked beautiful and there wasn't so much of a hint of drama or… _unauthorised_ entertainment.

The Queen's gaze flitted around the room for a few moments longer before landing approvingly on the graceful form of Melissa Van Stratten, a gloriously unattached and wonderfully accomplished daughter of an earl. The woman was happily flitting from group to group and mingling easily with everyone. The Queen smiled at Melissa as the young woman neared, and graciously held out a welcoming hand for Melissa to take. The young woman curtsied over it and then rose, relaxing visibly when the older woman gave her hand a maternal squeeze.

'Melissa, dear.' The Queen effused warmly. 'I do hope you're enjoying the ball.'

Melissa's blue eyes crinkled as she smiled, her perfectly unblemished cheeks dimpling prettily as she bobbed her head in thanks.

Melissa quickly adjusted the charming smile she flashed the Queen so it was still as bright but considerably less toothy. She had to be careful with this, she didn't want to look overeager and give the Queen the wrong impression about her. This was chess, Melissa reminded herself fiercely, and she needed to strategise.

'Oh yes!' Melissa breathed, injecting just the right about of bubbly enthusiasm into her voice. 'I'm having the most _wonderful_ time.'

 _Ease it back, Melissa._ The brunette warned herself as she stood up straight again. _Don't overdo it._

'I'm a little disappointedI haven't had the chance to dance yet, though.' she added, lowering her eyelashes demurely for a second before raising her head again with a hopeful smile on her face. 'But the night is still young!'

'Oh _no_!' The Queen looked genuinely upset to hear the news and Melissa forced herself to bite back the satisfied grin that tugged at the corners of her lips. It wasn't time for gloating just yet.

'Well, I'm sure Samuel will take a turn with you, my dear.' The Queen assured her, giving the woman's slender hand another reassuring pat as she scanned the ballroom for her son. A slight frown darkened The Queen's pretty face in the split second when she realised that Sam's blond head wasn't one of the many milling around the ballroom, but she turned back to Melissa as if nothing was amiss with a warm, reassuring smile on her face.

'Don't worry. I'm sure my son would be delighted to dance with you once I've pointed out his oversight, you know what men can be like - he probably didn't even think of it.' The two women shared a knowing glance before the Queen spoke again. 'and I won't let you go home without at least one dance.' The Queen insisted, 'I won't have one of my guests leaving unhappy!'

Melissa giggled and nodded, giving the Queen's hand a thankful squeeze before the older woman moved away, presumably to go find her missing son.

The cogs in Melissa's head began to spin again as she watched the Queen depart. She'd secured a dance with Prince Samuel - that was good. He'd been distant while he talked to her, but Melissa assumed that it would only be a matter of time before she had his full attention, she just had to play her cards right. The truth was that, although Melissa hadn't danced with anyone since she'd arrived at the ball, it wasn't because she hadn't been _asked._ She had - she was, after all, an attractive young woman from one of the most prestigious families in the kingdom, not to mention popular - it was just that Melissa hadn't wanted to stand up with anyone other than Prince Samuel.

The only problem had been that the Prince had promptly excused himself after a mere ten minutes in her company and had yet to come back, but Melissa was fairly certain she'd taken care of that problem. She would get her dance, the Queen would insist upon it, and Samuel wouldn't want to risk slighting her by saying no. Melissa allowed herself a second to feel smug as she tossed her dark, chesnut-coloured hair over her shoulder, but it was quickly replaced with concern as she began to contemplate her next hurdle. Samuel was still actively looking for that common girl from his birthday party, and that would cause problems. Before that chubby singing girl had shown up it had been widely accepted that _Melissa_ would be Prince Samuel's chosen bride, but now she'd been unceremoniously demoted to 'second choice' and with Samuel, that meant that she wasn't a choice at all. Melissa was _never_ second choice, and it stung.

It didn't matter, Melissa dismissed with another toss of her glossy hair, Singing Girl had apparently disappeared off the face of the planet, and it wouldn't exactly be hard to outshine a woman who wasn't even there. No, it would be Melissa's toned bottom sitting on the throne at the end of the day anyway, and she could live with that.

'Anastasia, darling, have you seen your brother anywhere?'

Stacy Evans looked up from her glass of sparkling orange juice and stared at her mother in surprise. It wasn't that the woman tended to ignore Stacy, _per se_ , but it was definitely rare for the Queen to address her only daughter in the middle of a ball. Usually she was running around trying to introduce Sam to this woman or other, or making Stevie charm and befriend all the richest, most powerful people in the kingdom. Stacy tended to be left out of it all, and after several years of resenting that fact bitterly, she'd finally gotten used to her role as 'the under the radar' royal.

'Which one?'

The Queen sighed, as if explaining which son she was talking about was some great chore, even though it was a perfectly legitimate question.

' _Samuel_.'

'Uh…' Stacy scanned the ballroom as she thought about the last time she'd seen Sam. He'd been talking to that godawful Van Stratten woman, and then… and then he'd disappeared. Stacy's youthful brow furrowed uncharacteristically as she realised that she hadn't seen Sam since then, and _that_ had been about forty minutes ago. Stacy shook her head, annoyed that Sam had somehow managed to escape while she herself was still stuck in Rich Old People hell. She wasn't sure how Sam had managed it, but he _would_ be showing her sometime soon.

'I haven't seen him.' Stacy admitted with a slight shrug that had her mother raising a disapproving eyebrow. She stiffened automatically under her mother's glare, remembering too late that shrugging 'wasn't ladylike' and then busied herself trying to think of where Sam might have gone, _anything_ to get The Queen off her back.

'Sometimes he goes to the gardens.' Stacy volunteered after a few moment's thought. 'Maybe he's there?'

The Queen sighed again and muttered something about propriety, marriage and Melissa. Stacy didn't really know what her mother was talking about, but she found herself praying that Sam wasn't planning to marry Melissa Van Stratten.

There were a lot of things the young princess was prepared to tolerate in this life, but calling that vain, two-faced social climbing leech her Sister-in-Law was _not_ one of them.

'Or he could be in the kitchens,' Stacy hedged, suddenly regretting selling her brother out so quickly. She couldn't blame him if he'd run off to get away from ice queen Melissa and her irritating fakeness. 'You know how Sam likes his food!'

The Queen pondered that for a moment, trying to decide which was the most likely, and then nodded once before patting her daughter on the arm.

'I'll check the gardens first.' she decided, stroking her daughter's hair in a surprisingly soft gesture, considering they were in public. 'Thank you, darling.'

Mary Evans turned to go and then at the last minute turned back to her daughter, who had gone back to staring into her juice glass as if it held the answers to all of life's big questions.

'Try to cheer up, Stacy.' Mary said quietly, her eyes kind. 'Some of these Rich Old People are actually nice.'

The responding smile that lit up her daughter's pretty face was gratifying to say the least, but Mary didn't have time to enjoy it. She had to find Sam and figure out what the hell he was doing. She would be annoyed if her son was trying to shirk his duties, but the Queen had the nasty feeling that this was still about Miss Jones. The Queen wasn't entirely sure what that woman had done to her son, but whatever it was, the effects were certainly long lasting. She'd thought he would have gotten over Miss Jones by now, but on the contrary, Sam was _still looking_. The Queen sighed again and went to search for her wayward son.

/

'Ok, so, since you know about my super secret Muppets obsession, I think it's only fair that you tell me what your childhood obsession was.' Sam told Mercedes as he led her by the hand to the secret enclave in the palace gardens.

'I don't know _what_ you could mean.'

Sam looked at Mercedes suspiciously shifty expression and bit back a grin.

'Oh, don't _even_!' Sam teased, seizing the small woman around the waist and tickling her mercilessly until she let out a series of loud, uncontrollable giggles.

'I told you mine!' Sam insisted, his face splitting into an even larger grin at the sound of Mercedes infectious laughter. 'Spill!'

'No!'

Mercedes twisted in his arms in a futile attempt to get away from Sam's long, tickling fingers, but it was no use. Sam had her well and truly captured, and truth be told, she sort of liked it.

'Ok, ok!' Mercedes surrendered, the giggles still escaping from her in short little breathless bursts. 'I'll tell you.'

Sam looked smug as he loosened his grip around her waist and she smacked lightly at his chest as soon as she was able to turn around.

' _Tyrant_.' she accused affectionately.

' _Beautiful_ ' Sam shot back, then leaned in to place a butterfly kiss on her nose. 'Now tell me.'

Mercedes rolled her eyes and then slipped out of Sam's arms to take his hand again.

'Spiderman.'

'No… _Sam.'_ Sam corrected, pointing a finger at his own chest. He winked at her. 'But I like the way you think, MJ.'

'Very funny.' Mercedes poked her tongue out at him and then tilted her face up to look up at the night sky above them.

'I was _in love_ with all things Spidey when I was little.' she explained in a dreamy voice. 'I had the Spiderman doll, and the bedsheets…' she remembered, smirking at the memory. 'I even had the Spiderman Underoos,' she explained, rubbing her arms to fight off the sudden chill in the air.

'The boys ones,' she clarified, smiling gratefully up at Sam as he slipped out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. 'Thank you.'

Sam's eyes were soft on hers as he traced his hand down her arm to interlace his fingers with hers again.

'No problem.' he smiled and gestured for her to continue. 'Why boys pyjamas?'

Mercedes scowled, the question obviously bringing up old resentments as she answered.

'Because they didn't make any for girls.' Her frown deepened for a brief moment, and then gave way to a wide smile, like the sun breaking through the clouds, and a laugh came tumbling out from between her lips at the memory.

'I made my mom write a letter to the pyjama company to complain about it.' she explained. 'I was a very precocious eight year old.'

She lowered her gaze and looked back at Sam with a small, embarrassed shrug.

'So there it is, now you know my secret. I've pledged my allegiance to the flag of Marvel and I have no intention of taking it back.'

Sam's expression was unmoving as he turned this information over in his mind and Mercedes began to wonder if maybe she'd let her geek colours fly a little too high when he spoke again.

'I bet you looked _adorable_ in your Spidey jammies.' he announced with a wide, dazzling grin, his eyes fixed on the heavens as he tried to imagine what that might be like. His grin widened as he pulled his attention away to look down at Mercedes' flushed face. 'You realise that if there are _any_ pictures of that then I'm tracking 'em down, right?'

 _'Sam!'_

'What?' the blond asked, flashing Mercedes an innocent smile as he darted out of the way of her poking fingers. 'I bet you were the cutest Spider-child in all the land!'

He laughed as Mercedes made another half-hearted lunge for him and danced out of her way, humming the Spider-man theme tune to himself.

'You know, I'm pretty sure my _other_ date wouldn't mock my love for web-slinging science geeks!' Mercedes announced, looking prim as she picked up her skirts and pretended to go back towards the ball.

'I'm pretty sure your other date doesn't have every single screened version of Spiderman in his room either.'

Mercedes froze in her tracks, her body stiffening as Sam's words sunk in.

'You _do not_.' Mercedes demanded, her heart racing as she stiffly turned to face the blond, her eyes wide in shock.

 _If he was lying to her._..

'I _do_.' Sam confirmed, looking pleased with himself as he wrapped his arms around her waist again from behind. 'Even the 70s movies.' he whispered, leaning in close so his breath fanned ticklishly over the shell of her ear. 'Even the _Ultimates_.'

Mercedes shivered at his proximity, as his deep, whispering voice vibrated through her body. The things he was saying to her were downright _sexual_ and another little rippling shiver ran through Mercedes' body as she thought about it. Didn't the boy know this was dirty talk for her?

Mercedes closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe as she slid her hands over the strong sinews of Sam's arms, firm around her stomach. He couldn't be real, he _couldn't_ be, but the waves of heat radiating from his body and the earthy, woodsy scent of his cologne were promising her that he was. It was like Sam had been made _specifically_ to be her personal brand of kryptonite.

' _Where have you been all my life?'_ Mercedes breathed, her gaze level with Sam's chest as she stared at his pearlescent white button fastenings.

She hadn't intended for Sam to hear her, but she guessed that he had when he slipped a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to meet his, his lips quirked in a smile that promised trouble as he leaned down to her.

'You know,' he husked, his mouth hovering dangerously close to hers. 'I've been wanting to ask you the same thing…'

Mercedes' eyes fluttered closed as Sam moved to close the distance between them, her heart already racing at the promise of his lips on hers. Sparks crackled where Sam's skin grazed hers and she leaned closer, aching for more of him than-

'Samuel?! What on _earth_ are you doing?'

Sam froze, his lips scant millimeters away from Mercedes' as his mother's voice cracked out behind him like a whip. He turned slowly, wishing all the while that he'd just imagined her voice, and then sighed as she entered his line of vision, her face impatient and unimpressed.

Sam watched his mother's expression change yet again as she caught sight of Mercedes behind him, her body no longer obscured by his, and he automatically snaked a protective arm around his Lark's waist as he glared back at her.

'Miss. Jones.' the Queen greeted coldly, her tone making it clear that she didn't approve of the younger woman's presence. 'What a surprise to see you here.' _with my son,_ her expression implied as her eyes took in Sam's jacket draped over Mercedes' shoulders.

'And here I was, under the impression that you'd decided court life wasn't for you.'

Mercedes shifted uncomfortably beneath Sam's arm and the blond prince looked between the two women in confusion. Something was not adding up here. He'd expected his mother to be happy that he'd finally found his Lark… but then, Sam hadn't actually introduced Mercedes as Lark, so it was possible his mother didn't realise that's who she was. Actually… Sam's jaw clenched tightly as he replayed his mother's words in his head, he hadn't introduced Mercedes _at all_. Sam could feel the nervous tension radiating from Mercedes and he instinctively gripped her waist tighter as he turned to study her face. Her head was down, her eyes fixed firmly on the cool stone of the pathway, and Sam's eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out just _what_ was going on.

' _Miss. Jones_?' Sam asked, his voice low and dangerous, but when Mercedes looked up she found that he wasn't talking to her, but to his mother.

The Queen tore her eyes away from Mercedes to looked tiredly at her son.

'What, Samuel? That's her name, isn't it? I didn't realise I had to seek permission before talking to your,' she paused for a fraction of a second, giving Mercedes a once over with her eyes before finishing. ' _friends._ '

'It _is_ her name,' Sam nodded stiffly, his eyes sparking hot and furious in his otherwise calm face. 'Which _I_ knew, because Mercedes told me about thirty minutes ago.' Sam explained. 'So why don't you tell me how _you_ know?'


	18. Chapter 18

'Puckerman!'

Puck looked up when he heard his name, and then glared accusingly at the hand Sebastian had wrapped around his upper arm.

'What?' Puck snapped, trying to shrug his arm out of the taller man's hold to no avail.

'We need to go to the gardens. Now.' Sebastian's voice was hushed, but held a note of urgency that Puck deliberately chose to ignore.

'Dude,' Puck said, finally managing to wrench his arm free of Sebastian's insistent grip. 'We kissed _one time_ during spin the bottle when we were like, 15. I know I'm good, but… let it _go_.'

Sebastian huffed and caught Puck's eyes in a steely glare.

'Trust me, I ordinarily wouldn't want to touch you with a 50ft pole,' Sebastian told the other man primly, 'but this isn't about me. This is about Sam.'

'Sam doesn't want to kiss you either.' Puck dismissed and went to go back to what he was doing, which was trying to attract the attention of a group of young ladies on the far side of the room.

'Ugh!' Sebastian growled and gripped Puck's arm again to physically draw his attention back. 'The Queen just followed Sam into the gardens, Puckerman.' Sebastian bit out, looking like he was two seconds away from smacking Puck smartly around the head.

'So?'

'So, he's out there with _Mercedes!_ ' Sebastian hissed and watched as Puck's entire demeanour instantly changed.

'Let's go.' Puck commanded, already heading for the garden's side entrance, 'and don't think I missed that you know her real name.' he added, 'We'll be discussing that later.'

Sebastian smirked in a way that he knew was sure to infuriate the prince's best friend.

'I look forward to it.'

/

The Queen stared at Sam blankly for a couple of seconds, as if it were taking a long time for Sam's question to reach her ears, but Sam saw the exact moment when she realised her own mistake. The Queen squeezed her eyes shut as if asking God for strength, and then trained them coldly on Mercedes when she opened them again.

'I have to admit, I'm impressed.' the Queen congratulated, clasping her hands together in front of her. 'I half expected that to be the first secret you'd spill.'

Mercedes shrank even further inside Sam's jacket, and his arm tightened around her automatically as he looked questioningly between the two women.

'What aren't you telling me?' He asked his mother, his eyes narrowing suspiciously, and then turned to the small woman beneath his arm. 'Mercedes?'

'Why don't you just tell him?' the Queen suggested snootily, not liking the way Sam was looking at the interloper, nor the tender way he held her close to him. 'Why not help him see _exactly_ who you are.'

Mercedes' hair fell around her face like a curtain as she kept her eyes on the ground. This had all been so perfect, but she should have known this would happen. She'd spent all that time warning herself against believing in dreams, and now everything was turning into a nightmare.

…But Sam deserved to know the truth, Mercedes decided. The Queen was right, she'd run at the first sign of trouble and Sam deserved to know that too. But Mercedes had truly thought she was doing the _right thing_ , if she were being honest with herself she still did. Coming here had probably been a lapse in judgement, but she'd not been able to stay away. Mercedes had to hope that Sam would understand that, even if she was still getting her head around it herself.

'I was here before.' she told Sam in a quiet voice, lifting her head to look directly into his pleading green eyes. 'After the first time we met. It was when I found out that you were looking for me, and I wanted to come see you… so I came here and…'

Mercedes spared a glance at the Queen before she continued talking. 'And then…'

'And then Miss. Jones and I had a little chat.' The Queen interrupted, moving closer to the couple. 'I pointed out a few things that I'm sure Miss Jones here wasn't aware of, and then we decided that it would be best for everyone involved if she removed herself from your… _consideration_ , as it were.'

The Queen moved her gaze from Sam back to Mercedes again.

'At least, that's what I _thought_ we'd decided.'

'I wasn't planning to stay.' Mercedes insisted, sliding Sam's jacket off her shoulders and attempting to hand it to him. 'I just… I just wanted to see him again.' she told the Queen quietly as Sam automatically accepted the jacket, his eyes disbelieving as he watched her gather up her dress skirts with her small hands.

'In fact, I should probably go find Sebastian.'

Mercedes curtsied to the Queen before turning back to Sam, who still stood frozen in his original position. Tentatively, Mercedes reached up a hand to tenderly caress his cheek, both their eyes closing as they tried to savour the moment. Sam lifted a hand to cup hers, but she drew it away before he could cover it with his own.

'I'm sorry for intruding.' Mercedes apologised to the Queen as she moved to leave them both. 'I should go.'

'No.'

Sam's hand shot out to gently catch Mercedes' wrist as she turned to leave, halting her before she could walk out of his life again. She turned to look at him, her big, brown eyes wide with confusion and sadness, and Sam felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest at the thought of her walking out and leaving him again.

'I need to ask you a question first.'

Mercedes stared at him dumbstruck for a few moments before nodding her head a fraction of an inch, and Sam's warm fingers slowly unfurled from her wrist.

'Did you…' Sam sighed and scrubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to get his thoughts straight so he could ask the question he needed to know the answer to.

'When you left, did you think you were doing what was best for _me_? Or what was best for _you_?'

Sam's green eyes were steady on Mercedes' face as she thought about it, his mother momentarily forgotten as he waited with bated breath for her answer.

'Both, I think.' Mercedes said thoughtfully, not sure if that was what he wanted to hear or not. 'Mostly for me though,' she added, feeling a bit selfish. 'Your mother pointed out that I don't know this life, and she's right, I don't. I don't understand court, and I stick out like a sore thumb.' she shrugged helplessly. 'Everyone would notice. I'd probably flounder here, and I'd drag you down with me. I couldn't bear the thought of that.'

Sam nodded at her answer, his expression softening as he reached out a hand and drew her back to him by her waist.

'Then stay.' Sam insisted quietly, so only she could hear him. 'We can fix that. We can, I promise. Just, please… _stay_.'

Sam touched his forehead to hers briefly, and he felt the slightest shift of her skin against his as she nodded. A smile ghosted on his lips before he turned back to his mother again, all trace of amusement gone.

'You _knew_.' Sam spat, his voice venomous as he realised the full extent of what his mother had done. She had _watched_ him exhaust himself trying to find Mercedes, offering up her condolences and barbed criticisms against a girl who would turn him down, and all the while she had known _exactly_ who Mercedes was, and probably even where to find her!

Sam's jaw clenched in barely contained anger, and he could feel the fury coursing white hot underneath his skin. How could she stand there, in front of him, and act like she'd done nothing wrong?

'How could you _do_ that!?'

The Queen sighed wearily and patted her hair down self-consciously. She was the mother of three children, so she wasn't exactly unused to the odd temper tantrum. It wasn't entirely unexpected, given the circumstances, but it _would_ pass… Eventually.

'I did what was best for my child, Samuel.'

'Bullshit!'

' _Samuel_!

Sam shook his head, refusing to feel guilty for his choice of language. He was honestly thinking of a lot of much stronger words that he was choosing not to say, most of them unpleasant and directed at his mother. Sam couldn't _believe_ that she didn't even seem to care, didn't seem to feel a shred of guilt about what she'd done. His heart had been breaking for _months_ and she'd just… _let it_. More than that, she'd _encouraged_ it, had deliberately stopped the balm he needed from getting to him. Sam shook his head, growing more and more disgusted by the woman in front of him by the second.

'Listen, Samuel, I…'

'No!' Sam held up a hand to silence his mother's protests and lowered it slowly, his expression steady and disapproving as he looked at her. 'You knew what Mercedes meant to me, and you _knew_ that she wanted to see me, but I guess she didn't fit into what _you'd_ decided I needed, so you tried to get rid of her, didn't you?'

The Queen looked completely taken aback by Sam's words but she shook her head and tried to protest. She wanted him to see that she was only trying to do what was _best_ for her son.

'Well, I-'

' _Didn't you_?' Sam yelled, not willing to put up with her excuses anymore. The Queen spluttered and then blinked several times at her son's tone. Never in all his twenty-four years of life had he spoken to her like that, and the shock of it forced the truth from her lips.

'Well, yes… but-'

'Enough, Mother!' Sam spat, his voice cold and authoritative as he stared icily down at a woman he no longer recognised. 'I think you've done entirely too much where I'm concerned. Especially when you so _clearly_ don't know me at all.'

The Queen made a face like a fish that had suddenly found itself on dry land, but abruptly stopped talking, her eyes regarding her son as if she'd never seen him before. The two of them were so intent on their argument that neither of them noticed Sebastian and Puck's arrival, and the two newcomers wisely decided to stay silent as Sam continued.

'You know, you keep going on about how I'll be a great king,' Sam fumed, 'but if you _truly_ believe that, then why the hell won't you let me make my own decisions?'

The Queen looked like she wanted to interrupt there, but Sam's glare made it clear that it wouldn't be welcomed.

'You know what? Maybe Mercedes _is_ a mistake.' Sam posited, and the Queen looked like she was about to weep from relief until Sam held up a silencing hand again.

'But I don't think she is. Actually, I think she's the _B_ _est Fucking Thing_ to ever happen to me, and yes, I know, Mother, ' _l_ _anguage'.'_ Sam rolled his eyes and looked thoroughly revolted. 'I don't care! I really don't, because I mean _every. single. word_.' Sam leaned away from her and spread his arms wide, playing the role of the showman as a lifetime of repression and being forced into 'doing the right thing' came to a head.

'Even if this _is_ all a mistake, it's _my_ mistake to make!'

Sam stared at the woman in front of him, his chest heaving as angry tears pricked behind his eyes. Somehow, while his back was turned, she had become more ruthless Queen than mother, and Sam couldn't say he liked the change. He wasn't sure how it had come to this, but he was done playing along.

'They're **_all_** my mistakes to make,' Sam added her quietly, 'and you underestimate me.'

Sam raised an open palm to gesture to Mercedes standing silent and wide eyed behind him. 'I think you underestimate _her_.' he added adamantly. 'I've only known her for _two nights_ and I already know that she's one of the most incredible, poised and _capable_ women I've ever met.' Sam insisted. 'She'd make a _kickass_ queen, and honestly, I give exactly zero fucks if you like that or not.'

Sam turned away from his shellshocked mother to grab the hand of an equally stunned Mercedes, but his touch and voice held a gentleness that wasn't there when Sam spoke to his mother.

'You wanna dance with me, Lark?'

Mercedes nodded, her voice lost in the shock of what had just happened as Sam lead her away from the scene. She tried not to look at the Queen as Sam walked them determinedly past, but she couldn't help shooting the dejected woman an apologetic glance anyway. Sam didn't even spare his mother a sideways glance.

Mercedes tore her eyes away from the Queen as she trotted along behind Sam, her eyes fixated on the section of hair behind his right ear as he led them back towards the main palace. Sam's pace was ridiculously fast as he rushed to get away from his mother and Mercedes had to hurry to keep up with him.

 _His mother_ , Mercedes thought with a strange feeling building in her chest as what had just happened sank in. Sam had just argued with his mother over her.

 _Prince Samuel_ had just argued with the **Queen** … over _her_.

Mercedes tried not to dwell too much on Sam and the Queen's weird unspoken assumption that she and Sam would be getting married. She tried to tell herself that it was a figure of speech, and probably just an everyday concern for the would be dates of the heir, but Mercedes found herself worrying her lip as she remembered the conversation she'd had with the Queen all those months ago. It definitely hadn't sounded like a hypothetical question then… Mercedes frowned briefly to herself, and then determined to ask Sam about it once things had calmed down a bit.

Mercedes was so preoccupied with her own thoughts that she didn't notice Sam had stopped until she smacked suddenly into his stationary form. She stumbled slightly on her heels, the force of her collision bouncing her back and off balance as she struggled to right herself. She might have fallen if Sebastian's long, strong arms hadn't caught and righted her at the last minute, and Mercedes was quick to beam at her date in gratitude, but her smile dropped once she realised that Sebastian was too busy being glared at to see it.

' _Ok,'_ Mercedes suggested, eyeing Sam warily. He looked so angry and worked up that Mercedes could practically see the steam coming out of his ears, and she rushed to diffuse the situation. 'Let's try and stay calm-'

'-here.'

Mercedes covered her face with both hands when Sam tugged out of her grip and socked Sebastian in the face without so much as a _hint_ of warning. She winced as the unmistakable sound of flesh impacting solidly with bone echoed through the garden. Sam cocked his arm back to hit Sebastian again, but Mercedes put a staying hand on his bicep and whispered calming words into Sam's ear until he lowered it again.

'Sebastian, are you ok?'

Sebastian touched his rapidly swelling cheek tenderly and checked his hand for blood before nodding tentatively. 'Yeah, I think so. I'm ashamed to say I didn't see that coming.' he admitted and next to him Puck scoffed.

'I don't know why not,' Puck pointed out, 'you're _you_. You should probably wake up expecting to be punched.'

'Shut _up_ , Puck.' Mercedes glared at Sam's best friend and then tentatively removed Sebastian's hand from his face to get a better look at his injury.

'You need to put some ice on it.' she suggested, 'or steak, I'm guessing they'd have that to hand here.'

Sebastian nodded, smiling faintly at her while Sam scowled at him over the top of Mercedes' head.

'Why are you looking out for him?' Sam demanded, his irritation coming to a head as he watched Mercedes tenderly caring for the guy who had _deliberately_ kept her from him. 'He kept us apart!'

'He's also the reason I'm here tonight, so you could also say that he brought us together.' Mercedes snapped over her shoulder as Sebastian pointed her towards the palace kitchens. 'Not to mention he's the reason we met in the first place.'

Sam folded his arms across his chest as Mercedes slipped an arm around Sebastian's slender waist and gently steered him in the direction he'd indicated. Sam flexed his muscles across his chest and tried to clamp down on the jealousy he felt rising to the fore. He was usually pretty ok with his cousin, but the fact that Mercedes looked to be perfectly content to go off with him - with, or without Sam - was definitely putting nails in his coffin.

'He **lied**.' Sam pointed out, his jaw clenching in irritation.

'I'm sure he had his reasons.'

Sam's frown deepened. 'Well, I want to hear them.'

Mercedes raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow at him over her shoulder and kept walking.

'Then you'd best come with us, hadn't you?'


	19. Chapter 19

'Well?' Sam asked, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against a section of the long counter in the palace kitchens as Mercedes handed Sebastian a piece of steak for his eye.

'You wanna explain?'

Sebastian eyed Sam warily through his one good eye and then flicked his gaze to Puck, who was looking equally as hostile from a different section of countertop. In fact, the only person in the room who looked like they might be prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt was Mercedes, which made sense really.

'Alright,' Sebastian sighed and leaned back against the stool Mercedes had found for him. 'Where would you like me to start?'

'The beginning.' Sam supplied easily, his face stony as he glared at the brunette in front of him. 'With my birthday.'

Sebastian nodded and removed the steak from his eye to tentatively check his wound before returning it again.

'It started with me trying to screw with Puck.' Sebastian admitted with a small apologetic smile in Mercedes' direction. 'He and I have this friendly rivalry going on,' he informed her, 'and besides that, the man had actually ordered a _stripper_ for an official palace event.' Sebastian looked bemused and Puck's look intensified.

'I'm right here.'

'And still as idiotic as ever, I see.'

Puck started for Sebastian but Mercedes stood between them and held up a hand before he could get very far.

'Watch it, Sebastian.' She warned before gesturing for him to continue.

'Right, so I cancelled Puck's stripper.' Sebastian admitted, continuing on despite Puck's loud, accusatory cry of 'I knew it!'

'But I actually _like_ Sam, so I figured I'd hire someone else who was just as entertaining but less… crass.' he smiled at Mercedes and then winced at the pain it caused in his cheek. 'That was you, Miss Jones. Honestly, I didn't expect anything to come of it other than to provide a little relief from the boring monotony of these events. And to mess with Puckerman, of course.' he shrugged, 'but then you two got on so well, and I thought it could be good, Sam needs a break from the society bitches."

Sebastian paused in his story, and found that while Puck and Sam were still staring daggers at him, Mercedes was looking thoughtful.

'But then I got to know you better afterwards and I realised that I really didn't want Sam to break your heart or treat you like a fling.'

'I would never.' Sam protested, his scowl deepening and Sebastian nodded.

'I know that _now_ ,' he pointed out, 'but back then it was unknown territory, I decided I wanted you to _work_ for her. Mercedes was - _is_ \- too good to be your little experiment with slumming it. (no offence, my dear) and I wanted you to prove that you were worth her.'

Sam's frown lessened, but he still looked distrusting as he considered Sebastian's story.

'So why not tell me once I'd started looking for her?' he asked, 'Once I'd gone on television and let everyone in the kingdom know I was trying to find her? Wasn't that proof enough?'

Sebastian winced as he took the steak off his eye and met Sam's glare with his own steady gaze. 'Quite frankly,' he began, 'no. It wasn't.'

'I wanted to see you fight, not just when it was easy, but when it got difficult. I wanted to know that I wasn't going to lead her to heartbreak. And then, when Mercedes didn't come forward…' Sebastian glanced at the quietly contemplating woman at his side briefly before turning back to Sam. 'When she didn't come forward, I began to wonder if perhaps she didn't _want_ to be found.'

Sebastian shrugged. 'I know you're a prince, Samuel, but really, not everything is about you.'

Sam uncrossed his arms and shook his head cautiously, his eyes narrowed as he tried to understand.

'So, basically,' he started, 'you switched your loyalty to Mercedes?'

Mercedes' head turned sharply to look at Sebastian, as if this was a possibility she had never considered before, and truthfully, she hadn't. She was even more shocked when Sebastian nodded.

'Basically.'

Sam shook his head for a long moment, the others all silent, Puck and Sebastian both watching Sam, and Mercedes still staring in wonder at Sebastian, until Sam began to laugh.

It was quiet at first, just a few giggles that grew into chuckles and finally into huge peals of uncontrollable laughter that had Sam bent over double trying to contain himself.

'Unbelievable,' he finally managed to get out, wiping the tears from his eyes as he straightened. 'My mother is so adamant that Mercedes wouldn't be accepted as Queen, and yet here she is, already inspiring loyal service from the court inner circle.'

Mercedes bristled, not sure how to take that, but Sam placed his big hands on her shoulders, quick to assure her that he hadn't meant any harm by his comment.

'It's just more proof that she's wrong.' he explained, tilting Mercedes chin up to look at him with the crook of his finger. 'And even more evidence that you're freaking _awesome_.'

A bashful smile stretched across Mercedes lips and Sam brought her to him, tucking her head under his chin as he held her close.

'You.' he said, his eyes alighting on Sebastian watching them from nearby, 'I can't decide if I want to deck you again or kiss you.'

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, recognising the pardon for what it was and quirked a half smile at his blond cousin. 'Which one is the punishment?' he asked glibly, and then laughed when Sam leaned away from Mercedes to thump him in the arm.

'Yeah,' he sighed, the smirk still on his face as Sam began to grin back at him. 'I figured it was the other one too.'

/

Sam and Mercedes re-entered the ballroom not long after that. Sam would have been happier hiding out in the kitchens, but Mercedes insisted that people would have started to miss him by now. Sebastian chose to stay behind a little while longer, and Puck elected to 'keep him company.' Knowing about the unsettled business between the two of them, Mercedes thought it best not to argue.

When he got back the the ballroom, Sam decided that he would dance with maybe two or three of the young ladies in attendance before he went and found Mercedes again. She'd insisted they come in separately to avoid a scandal (after all, Sebastian, her date, now had a black eye) and had strongly suggested that Sam dance with a few of the women he'd neglected whilst out in the gardens with her. Sam had wanted to protest, but he'd quickly realised that she was right. Even if all other women had now collectively fallen off his radar, Sam still had an obligation as a host to make sure that his guests were having a good time.

By chance, Melissa Van Stratten was the first woman to cross his path, and the lingering guilt Sam felt at ditching her earlier prompted him to ask her to dance. Melissa looked completely delighted by the request, as well as a little surprised, and graciously slid her hand into his and allowed Sam to lead her to the dance floor.

Melissa could barely contain her glee when Sam asked her to dance. Evidently the Queen had fulfilled her promise, but Melissa was determined to look as innocent and beguiling as possible. She'd seen the picture of the singer Sam was trying to find, and she remembered the woman a little too. From what Melissa could recall, she'd been very wide eyed and had giggled a lot. Melissa remembered because she'd found it incredibly annoying at the time, not to mention that the girl had been so tragically dressed Melissa wasn't certain she hadn't just rolled into a charity store and worn whatever had managed to roll out with her.

'Peasant.' Melissa muttered under her breath and then realised that she'd said the word aloud. She shot Sam a bright smile in the hopes that he hadn't heard her and quickly began talking to cover her slip.

'I'm glad I finally got to dance with you, Sam.' she said, smiling sweetly up at him. 'My night wouldn't have been complete otherwise.'

Melissa lowered her eyelashes demurely and moved her torso fractionally closer to Sam's so her breasts pressed gently against his shirt front.

'I thought perhaps you'd disappeared on us.'

'Oh…' Sam shook his head and took a tiny step backwards to put some space between them again. 'I had some… business to attend to. . Although it is, as always, an honour to be missed.'

'Seems like I'm 'honouring' you a lot lately.' Melissa volunteered, and Sam coloured at her unspoken accusation.

'What happened to us, Sam?' Melissa went on quietly. 'We used to be a lot closer than this. We were friends, weren't we?'

Sam agreed automatically before his brain had a chance to voice the truth. He and Melissa had been close-ish. Theirs had been a relationship of convenience more than anything else. They'd grown up seeing each other at the same parties and events, bonded by their mutual youthful hatred of such things. Over time, though, Melissa had begun to adore the very same things that she had once derided with Sam. His opinion on them, however, never really changed.

Oblivious to Sam's inner thoughts, Melissa beamed up at the blond man and stepped closer to him again. 'So, why don't we get back to that?' she asked him, her voice a low purr as she blinked her long eyelashes up at him.

'Uh…' Sam tried to keep the panic off his face as Melissa smiled coquettishly up at him. He had the uneasy feeling that Melissa wanted _more_ than friendship from him, but she hadn't exactly _said_ anything to that effect, and Sam was going to marry Mercedes anyway… He was relieved when the dance ended and he allowed himself a small, grateful sigh as he bowed to Melissa on the dance floor. Maybe he could just go and find Mercedes now instead of waiting another two dances, Sam decided. He already felt drained without her.

'Well?' Melissa asked as Sam escorted her off the dance floor. 'Do you think we could try and get-'

'Sammy!'

Sam had never been so relieved to hear his sister's voice before in his life.

'Miss Van Stratten' Stacie bobbed her head at Melissa, 'forgive me for interrupting, but I believe that _you_ promised me a dance.' Stacie insisted firmly, her eyes skimming over Melissa for a brief, dismissive moment before returning to Sam.

'I did!' Sam agreed, trying to keep the relief out of his voice despite the fact that he had promised Stacie no such thing. 'My apologies, Miss Van Stratten.' Sam offered Melissa a small smile, 'I must take your leave.'

Sam offered a small, curt bow before gratefully taking his little sister's arm and leading her to the dance floor.

'I don't like her.' Stacie offered as soon as the two of them were out of Melissa's earshot. 'She looks at you like you're some kind of rare, desirable handbag she wants to flaunt in front of her friends.'

Sam frowned slightly as he swirled his sister around the ballroom.

'You think?'

'Oh yeah,' Stacie agreed, her eyes finding Melissa across the room. 'I don't think she's as nice as she used to be.'

Sam swallowed back his agreement and looked thoughtful instead. 'You're pretty insightful, aren't you Stace?'

'Of course,' she told him matter-of-factly, 'what else is there for me to do at these things except observe?' she paused and then offered him a mischevious smile. 'Other than dance with my galumphing brother of cause.'

Just for that, Sam spun the small woman out in one of his fanciest dance moves.

'Who you calling 'galumphing'?' he asked her smugly when he was done.

'Stevie.'

Sam laughed as he twirled her around again. 'That's fair.'

After spending time with Stacie, Sam was finally able to find Mercedes and relax into the comfort of having her in his arms again.

'Sam…'

Sam smiled down warmly into Mercedes' huge brown eyes behind her mask.

'Yeah?'

'You're holding me too close.'

Sam frowned then, his eyes becoming hooded as he tried to process what she'd said. He was holding her too close? She felt perfect in his arms, against his chest, but was she uncomfortable with it? They'd been so close in the garden that Sam hadn't even thought about gathering her in his arms as soon as he'd had the opportunity again.

'I am?'

Mercedes smiled gently at the confusion on Sam's face and then bit her lip to hold it in. 'You had all those other girls at arms length.' she pointed out. 'It's a little suspicious that you've gone from that to practically grafting me onto your chest.'

Sam let out a whoosh of breath and shot Mercedes a relieved smile. 'Yeah, well, I didn't feel the same way about those girls as I do about you.' he explained. 'You're special.'

Mercedes didn't try to contain her bright smile this time, but she lowered her lashes shyly.

'Well, thanks. I think you're pretty special too!'

Sam laughed and pulled Mercedes closer, momentarily forgetting that he wasn't meant to in open adoration.

'I'm really glad I finally found you.'

'Oh, is _that_ what you did?' Mercedes teased lightly, 'And here I was under the impression that I'd found _you_.'

'Same difference!'

'Oh is it now?'

'Yes!' Sam grinned as he stepped lightly around the dance floor with Mercedes. 'Anyway, the point is that we're together now.' he amended. 'Our future is bright.'

Mercedes stiffened slightly underneath Sam's hands and he looked down at her curiously.

'Sam…' Mercedes began cautiously, her voice stilted as she fought for the right phrasing. 'Why… both you and your mother spoke about us like we're a done thing. I mean, I have pretty strong feelings for you, but it's not like I'm marrying you or anything.'

Sam bit his lip as their dance surged towards an inconvenient stop. He really ought to explain his situation to Mercedes, after all it affected her directly…

Still, Mercedes had been inundated with new information tonight, and Sam had only just found her again. He didn't want to frighten her off by overloading her with explanations of his situation.

'Yeah, I know.' Sam smiled tightly as he held his hand out to her to lead her off the dance floor. 'We seem kinda like a fairytale.'

He shrugged and tried to squash the awful feeling that had risen in the base of his throat as he lied to his Lark. He'd explain to her soon, Sam promised himself, in a few days, when she'd had time to process all of this.

'Want to get out of here?'

Sam curled Mercedes' small hand around the crook of his arm and held onto it.

'I think I ought to get going, actually.' Mercedes admitted reluctantly, her eyes curious on Sam's face. She hadn't known him for long, but Mercedes was convinced something was up with him. He was giving off weird vibes, but beyond all of that she was dog tired. The evening had held a lot of excitement for her, and she was ready to head home.

Sam's hand over Mercedes' tightened a fraction at her words, but he forced himself to loosen it again shortly afterwards. The thought of her walking out of his life again was not a pleasant one, but he knew her full name now, and it didn't seem like she'd try to hide from him.

'Do you have a phone?' Mercedes asked after a moment of watching various emotions making their way across Sam's face.

'Yeah,' Sam nodded, leading Mercedes into a quiet corridor where he could talk to her openly. Fishing the expensive device out of his pocket he handed it to her and watched with almost embarrassing levels of glee as she typed in her number and handed the phone back to him.

'No hiding.' she told him gently as Sam took the phone gently between his fingers.

'No hiding.' Sam agreed, his guilt at not telling her the truth about the marriage clause resurfacing with a vengeance.

He'd tell her, Sam justified internally. Mercedes would know the whole truth… soon.


	20. Chapter 20

'So, are you and Prince Samuel a thing now?' Quinn asked, tucking her feet up underneath her on the worn couch as she looked inquisitively at Mercedes. 'Because inquiring minds want to know.'

Mercedes sighed and shrugged before leaning forward to put her empty mug of tea on the coffee table. 'We're…' she began, and then stopped herself with a frown. 'I don't know what we are.'

'How can you not know?' Kurt asked seriously from where he was sitting next to Mercedes, 'This is the guy who went on television and told the world that he was crushing on you,' he complained, swivelling in his seat to face Mercedes properly. ' _Please_ tell me this wasn't just a publicity thing.'

Mercedes grimaced at the steel edge running through Kurt's voice as he spoke, and quickly interjected before he could go any further with that particular line of thought.

'No! It's nothing like that.' Mercedes admitted, and then dropped her head into her hands and groaned. 'Sam is… he's very serious about us.' she admitted, 'which is sort of great, and terrifying at the same time.' Mercedes hedged, her hands still over her eyes.

'I mean, he's wonderful, and the whole thing is like a fairy tale…'

'But…' Tina supplied, pointedly voicing the unspoken word in Mercedes' proclamation.

'But she doesn't trust it.' Quinn filled in, her eyes serious on Mercedes' face. 'That's right, isn't it?'

Mercedes sighed again and nodded, her hands clasped in her lap now.

'I really want to just let go and love him.' she admitted quietly, 'I really, really do… but even though my heart has been lost to him for a while, I just…'

She pursed her lips tightly for a moment, as if contemplating the wisdom of what she was about to say next before she spoke again.

'I haven't known Sam for long,' Mercedes admitted, 'but I just _know_ he's keeping something from me.'

Kurt, Tina and Quinn all exchanged a brief look before turning their attention back to Mercedes.

'Something like what?' Kurt ventured tentatively, but Mercedes just shrugged and shook her head.

'I haven't got a clue.' she told them, her face blank. 'I don't have a single idea as to what it could be, but it's _something_.'

Quinn put a staying hand on Tina's shoulder when the small woman went to say something, and then calmly resumed stroking her hands through Tina's hair as if nothing had happened.

'Maybe you should ask him about it.' Quinn suggested, her hands keeping up the gentle movement even though her back was ramrod straight with tension. Hopefully, Mercedes wouldn't notice.

'I think I'm going to have to.' Mercedes agreed with a resigned sigh. 'But, you know, we already cleared the obstacle of his mother.' she seemed to cheer slightly at the memory.

'How bad can this thing be?'

/

'Dude, what the hell is wrong with you? You're acting like a lady.'

Puck frowned as Sam stared at his reflection in the mirror and then shook his head.

'Nothing's wrong.' Sam lied, his fingers already working to undo the buttons on the shirt he was wearing as he disappeared into his closet to get another one.

'I'm absolutely fine.'

Sam re-emerged clutching several pressed shirts on hangers which he placed carefully on the bed before shrugging into the top one.

'If you're fine, then why are you trying on every shirt you own?' Puck asked incredulously, one eyebrow raised as he watched Sam change his mind about the shirt halfway through buttoning it and toss it back onto the bed.

'It's no big.' Sam protested, trying hard to sound calm as he fumbled for the buttons on the next shirt. 'I'm just going to tell Mercedes tonight.'

'Tell Mercedes…' Puck repeated, his eyes widening as he caught on to what Sam was saying.

'Holy shitballs, you're going to tell her about the marriage thing?' Puck's eyebrows furrowed as he fell back against the back of his chair. 'Damn.'

'Puck!' Sam's voice was unusually sharp as he snapped at his friend, his already tightly wound nerves getting the better of his temper. 'You're not helping!'

'Right… Sorry, dude.'

There was a strained silence during which Sam tried on and discarded another shirt before Puck spoke again.

'So what are you going to say to her?'

Sam shrugged, and finished doing up the buttons on a pale blue shirt that he actually quite liked.

'I'm going to tell her the truth.'

'Which means: you're going to wing it.'

Sam shrugged again as he fitted his cufflinks in and fastened them.

'I'll play it by ear.'

Puck scoffed and then looked apologetic for the sound.

'Dude, whatever, man. Just make sure you don't chicken out this time, ok?' he prompted. 'Mercedes may well be cool with the marriage thing, but every day you wait to tell her is one less day she has to make a decision.'

Sam felt a chill race down his spine as Puck echoed the same thoughts that had been running around his head in the week since the ball. Sam had gone to tell Lark the truth a few times now, but every time he'd found a reason to put it off. Now, however, the ticking of the clock was getting more and more audible, and Sam was being forced to consider what might happen if Mercedes turned him down. If she didn't want to marry him, then he'd have less than three months to find-

No.

Sam stopped himself before he could complete that thought. It was Lark or bust. Either he married her, or Stevie would be king. Either /or.

'Ok,' Sam announced, giving himself the once over in the mirror once he was done with his cufflinks. 'What do you think?'

He turned to Puck and held his arms out at his sides to give his friend the full effect.

'I think you look beautiful.' Puck told him in hushed, reverent tones. 'You'll be Prom Queen for sure.'

Sam grabbed a nearby seat cushion and tossed it squarely at his friend's head. 'Shut up.'

/

Mercedes smiled as she watched Sam's hands fidget in his lap before reaching out a gentle hand to cover his.

'Are you ok?'

Mercedes studied Sam's face intently as the scenery whipped past the tinted windows of the limousine. She'd sensed something was off with Sam before, but since he'd come to pick her up for their date it was like someone had turned him into overdrive. A slight frown of concern danced across Mercedes' face as she realised that Sam's hands were trembling slightly under hers.

'Yeah, I'm fine.'

Sam nodded and tried to smile, but it died before it made it past his lips.

'Ok, no, I'm not.'

Sam signalled for the driver to pull over and turned in his seat to face Mercedes once the car had come to a stop.

'I have to tell you something.' Sam began, looking like he'd actually really rather not. He paused as the driver got out of the car to give them some privacy, and then took a deep breath before continuing.

'If I don't get married before I'm twenty-five then I can never be king.'

Mercedes stared at him for a long moment before bursting into peals of giggles and patting Sam's leg good-naturedly.

'You are such a dork! I think you're taking this fairy tale thing a little too seriously, Kermy.' Sam closed his eyes at the comforting touch of Mercedes' hand on his knee, but he couldn't help but feel like he didn't really deserve it. Especially when she added, 'Now what's _really_ wrong?'

Sam's eyes stayed closed for a moment longer, his heart thumping accusingly in his chest as he lifted a hand to close around Mercedes' on his knee, and then carefully held it close to him.

'Sam?' Mercedes' residual giggles disappeared as soon as she got a good look at Sam's serious expression.

'It's an archaic law,' Sam explained, his voice grave, 'But it's really clear. My father did it, and if I want to be king, then I'll have to do it too…'

Mercedes swallowed, her eyes wide as she stared out the window and tried to take in everything Sam was saying, her heart beginning to constrict painfully in her chest as his words repeated in her head.

'Are you breaking up with me?' Mercedes interrupted, her eyes flicking back to Sam's face as she waited for an answer. 'Was I just a last hoorah before you- No, wait!' Pulling out of his grip, she held up her hand to stop the words that Sam hadn't started speaking yet and frowned, her eyes fixing on the carpet as she tried to swallow back the lump in her throat. 'That's a stupid question, I don't know why I aske-'

Sam took the hand that Mercedes still held up between them and slid himself along the leather seats until he was only a few inches away from her.

'I'm _not_ breaking up with you.'

Sam swallowed hard as Mercedes face became a mask of confusion.

'But Sam, you're already _**24**_. That means you only have a few months before…'

Mercedes trailed off, catching the look in Sam's eyes and finally deciphering what he'd been trying to tell her since he'd started speaking.

'Oh my God.'

'I'd been trying to figure out the best way to… I don't know, tell you? The best way to _ask_ you…'

Sam stammered at the sight of Mercedes' wide, panicked eyes and quickly corrected himself.

'I wasn't planning to ask you in the back of a limosine.' He insisted hastily, holding one of Mercedes' small hands between both of his own. 'I just… I wanted _you_ to know what _I_ knew, but we've only just found each other again and I was… honestly, I was scared you'd run.'

Colour spread up Sam's neck, darkening his cheeks with a blush as he waited for Mercedes' response, but embarrassment led to panic as time passed and Sam grew more aware of the fact that Mercedes wasn't saying anything.

'Lark?'

'Earlier Quinn asked me if you and I were together.' Mercedes said suddenly, breaking the silence that had stretched out between them. 'And I didn't know what to tell her.'

She pulled her gaze from her lap to look Sam in the eye, her expression unreadable. 'Sam, don't you think it's a problem if I don't know if we're together or not, while you're thinking about… well, what I think you're thinking about?'

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 'You can say it, Mercedes. 'Marriage' isn't a dirty word.'

Rather than reassuring Mercedes, Sam was instead met with a look that told him he better stop trying to dodge the subject and just answer the damn question. 'Answer the question, Sam.'

Sam let out another sigh and fixed his eyes on his hand intertwined with Mercedes'.

'It's not ideal. I know that. If I had more time I would do this…' he trailed off. 'It would be different, a lot of this would be different, and I know the thought of this scares you, I know that, and I want nothing more than to be able to take away that fear. I wish I had all the time in the world to prove to you that this is real, that I really do love you, even though it's been such a short time… but the fact is that I don't. I don't have that luxury.' Sam's green eyes met Mercedes' hooded brown ones and he knew that he was in trouble. She looked freaked out, and the way her hand had tensed between his made him sure that this was absolutely not the thing they needed right now, but it was there, and he couldn't ignore it anymore. He had to get married in three months or lose the throne, and Mercedes deserved to know about that.

'I understand if you don't feel the same way.' Sam began, his heart heavy with the declaration. 'It's a lot to deal with, and I realise that marriage after such a short courtship is not something you're even considering-'

'But that's the thing…' Mercedes interrupted, a small finger coming up under Sam's chin to tip his face up to meet hers. 'I AM considering it, Sam. It's crazy - completely insane! - but I actually am considering marrying you even though I should probably laugh the whole thing off as ridiculous…'

Mercedes' sentence faded to a halt as she looked into Sam's eyes for a moment, trying to imagine what it would be like to call herself his wife… and what being his wife would mean.

'What would you do if I said 'no'?' Mercedes asked suddenly, a tiny crease forming between her eyebrows as the wheels began to turn in her head.

'I…' Sam began, and then closed his mouth again.

'Tell me, honestly.' Mercedes prompted, causing Sam to groan and scrub a hand over his face.

'If you said no then I'd give up my claim to the throne.' he told her, his voice devoid of any expression. 'I've already discussed the possibility with Stevie.'

' _SAM!_ '

Mercedes pulled her hand out from beneath his and used it to poke his shoulder.

'What is _wrong_ with you?' She demanded angrily, ' **Why would you do something like that?!'**

'Because I love you?!' Sam shot back, sliding a little way away from her on the seat so that she couldn't prod him again. 'I don't _want_ to be king if it means being married to someone else.'

'Sam, you barely _know_ me.' Mercedes reiterated, looking like she couldn't quite believe what he'd said. 'You can't put the future of the entire kingdom - _YOUR_ future - at the mercy of my decision!'

'But I lo-'

'No!' Mercedes held up a hand to stop him and then looked pained. 'Look… Love is… it's wonderful, and special and incredible, and what we have is… it's _amazing_ … but it's not all that there is, no matter how much we might like to wish it was, and we have so much more to consider here than us.'

Sam nodded, but he felt as if his heart was being crushed in a vice with every word. Mercedes was right of course, but Sam couldn't shake the feeling that she was just trying to find the right way to turn him down.

'Are you saying that your answer is 'no'?' He asked sadly, his stomach churning ominously as he turned his attention to his large, pale hands resting on his knees.

'I'm saying that I can't give you an answer yet.' Mercedes clarified, reaching over and curling her short fingers around his.

'Besides the fact that you haven't actually _asked_ me,' she said, pausing with a slight smile on her face in an attempt to lighten the mood, 'I don't think either of us know each other well enough yet.'

Sam nodded, his eyes still on his hands as his jaw tensed at her words. It wasn't a no, not yet anyway, but it wasn't exactly promising either.

They were silent for a while after that, both turning to stare unseeing straight ahead with their hands still clasped between them, both lost in their own thoughts.

'I… have a suggestion.' Mercedes ventured after about ten minutes, her voice sounding small and nervous even though there was no other sound in the limo. She waited for Sam's eyes to find her again before she continued, her small, pink tongue darting out to wet her lips before she spoke.

'We have three months left before you have to get married, right?'

Sam nodded.

'So… I propose that we use those three months to get to know each other better and then… if we still feel the same way… I'll marry you.'

Sam blinked at his Lark for a moment, trying to decide if he'd really heard her say what he _thought_ she'd said.

'Did you just say you'd marry me?' Sam asked carefully, excitement churning in his stomach at the thought. 'Did you just say you'd _marry me_?!'

Mercedes couldn't help the small giggle that escaped at the sight of Sam's jubilant face, but bit her lip again to fight against the words she still had left to say.

'I have a condition.' she added, freezing Sam in his tracks as he leaned in to wrap her in a hug.

Sam rocked backwards, his arms dropping uselessly by his sides as he caught the odd tone of her voice.

'What is it?'

Mercedes took a deep breath, already hating the words that were about to come out of her mouth but knowing that they had to come out anyway. _It really was the best thing,_ she told herself, _the best, but definitely not the easiest._

'I'm sorry, Kermy, but I can't let you put all your eggs in my basket.' she specified, her voice pitching slightly as she forced the bile that was rising in her throat down. 'My condition is that you have to date a girl from Court at the same time. Someone more "acceptable" than me.' Mercedes paused for a moment, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and chewing on it nervously. 'You need to pick someone your mother would approve of' Mercedes added in a small voice. 'And you need to give her a fair chance.' Mercedes put a gentle hand against Sam's chest, unsurprised to feel his heart beating hard under her palm as he fought to contain his outrage.

'If we finish out the three months and you still think I'm the best choice, then I _promise_ I will happily marry you.' Mercedes finished her eyes wide with apprehension as she looked up into Sam's glittering eyes.

'I will.' Sam's voice sounded hoarse and dry to his own ears but he pressed on regardless, eager to impress upon Mercedes the truth of his feelings. 'I _know_ I will.'

'Not just for you, Sam.' Mercedes reminded quietly, 'I have to be what's best for the kingdom, too, for you _**both**_.'

Sam didn't even realise he was shaking his head until Mercedes reached out both hands to cup his cheeks and still his movements.

'If it was just me and my heart,' she began, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, 'if it was just us…'

'I know.' Sam sighed, his heart feeling like lead in his chest at the mere prospect of what Mercedes was suggesting. It wouldn't change anything, he knew that down to his soul, but the point was that Mercedes didn't - not yet anyway - and _that_ was the only reason that Sam did what he did next.

Running a hand through his hair, Sam opened his mouth and uttered just one word:

'Okay.'


	21. Chapter 21

Mercedes nodded, her heart heavy as she sat back in her seat.

'Okay.' she repeated, her voice soft.

'But I have conditions too.' Sam continued. 'I've known every single one of those eligible court women since I was a child,' he explained. 'If you want me to consider you and this court woman fairly, then I'm afraid you're already at a disadvantage.'

Mercedes' eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she listened to Sam speak. His voice was calm, measured even, and not for the first time, Mercedes caught a glimpse of the man he could be as king.

'What are you talking about?'

'I already know them.' Sam clarified, 'And you say I don't know you, so you, my Lark, have some catching up to do.'

The words repeated in Mercedes' head, but she still couldn't figure out what the prince was trying to say to her. Finally she let out an exasperated sigh and fixed the blond with a pointed look.

'What do you want, Sam?'

Sam settled back into the soft leather of his own seat and regarded his girlfriend coolly, one eyebrow raised in answer to her question.

'You know _exactly_ what I want.' he pointed out, the low rumble in his voice in the quiet intimacy of the car making Mercedes feel suddenly too warm.

'But failing that,' Sam finished. 'I want to go on dates with you.'

Mercedes didn't mean to let out a half-nervous, half-relieved giggle at his response, but it escaped her lips anyway, forcing her hands to her mouth to try and stop any further errant sounds from escaping.

'You want to go on a date with me?' she queried, the relief soaking through every syllable. 'That's it?'

'Nope.' Sam smiled, allowing the 'p' of the word to pop with satisfaction as he watched Mercedes' cheeks take on an ever-so-slightly rosier hue. He'd always been told that he wouldn't be able to tell when someone with dark-skin blushed, but Sam knew every millimetre of Mercedes' face better than he knew his own, and he could tell. Better yet - he was enjoying it.

'I said ' _dates_ '. Plural.' Sam clarified, his eyes firmly on Mercedes as she blinked a reaction to his words.

'Six days a week, for the entire three months.' Sam added, his lips quirking into a slight smile.

'Gotta save one for the other lady.' he shot her a wink as Mercedes' eyes widened.

'Six dates a week for three months…' Mercedes sounded dazed as her brain struggled to calculate what that worked out as. 'That's… that's a lot of dates.'

Sam nodded, unperturbed as Mercedes' brow furrowed again.

'But Sam… I work. A lot. Plus I have friends, and, ok, not much of a social life but I can't just abandon them… I mean, I love you, Sam, but I can't let you become my entire life any more than I can let you make me yours.'

Given what she'd just said, Mercedes hadn't expected the huge smile that broke across the young royal's face, but when she looked up he was beaming at her like a child who'd got exactly what they wanted on Christmas morning.

'Sam, did you hear what I just said?'

Sam nodded and slid himself closer to her on the bench seat to take her hands in his own.

'You said you loved me.'

Mercedes stared at him for a moment feeling exasperated. She hadn't really meant to tell him she loved him, that had just sort of… slipped out, but of course Sam would have picked up on it. Even if that meant apparently missing everything _else_ she'd just said.

'Sam…' Mercedes tried to sound annoyed, but she couldn't keep the smile of her face, especially when he leaned over and cupped her face, gently stroking the pad of his thumb across her cheek.

'You. Love. Me.' Sam repeated, leaning closer to her with each word until his mouth hovered bare millimetres from hers.

'We're having a discussion…' Mercedes protested weakly, her breath turning heavy as she tried to resist the urge to close the gap between them.

'Later.'

Sam's hand wrapped possessively around Mercedes' waist as his lips met hers, softly at first, but rapidly getting hotter and more insistent as they clutched at each other, desperate to be closer. Sam tipped his soft goddess backwards until he hovered above her, his lips leaving hers to trail kisses along her jaw, her neck, and daringly along her collarbone. The way Lark was sighing his name was pushing him to the edge of his own resolve, but reluctantly he moved back up to her pillow-soft lips again, and let himself drown in the blissful sensations she awakened in him.

A knock on the driver's partition of the limousine had them both springing apart like naughty teenagers, and Sam scowled at the barrier until Mercedes' tickled him to make him smile and hit the button to lower it.

'Sorry to interrupt, Your Highness.' The driver began, shifting uncomfortably in his seat with a nervous cough, 'Ma'am.' he gave Mercedes a polite nod. 'I was just wanting to know if, since you've missed your dinner reservations, you might be wanting to go straight on to the Opera House? The show starts in 30 minutes, and it's a fifteen minute drive.'

'The Opera House?!' Mercedes' voice squeaked in excitement. 'That's where we're going?'

Sam sighed and shot his driver an irritated glare. 'Yes, that's where we're going. If you want to, that is.' he added quickly. 'I've heard you singing _O Mio Babbino Caro_ , and _Agnus Dei_ to yourself, and I took a chance. If you don't want to go then…'

'I want to go!' Mercedes interrupted quickly, her eyes shining with eagerness. 'I definitely want to. You made a good call.'

Sam grinned back at her feeling elated and proud that he'd managed to choose correctly. Turning back to the driver he offered the man a small shrug. 'You heard the lady.'

'Very good, Your Highness.'

It wasn't until Mercedes was lying in bed later that she realised Sam had managed to completely avoid finishing their '6 dates a week' discussion. 'Sneaky jerk.' she thought fondly. 'Sneaky wonderful jerk.' she muttered to herself before falling asleep with a smile on her face.

Meanwhile, across the kingdom in the palace, Sam was having far more difficulty sleeping. He was plagued by the thought of losing his Lark, and on the rare occasions he _did_ sleep, his dreams were full of his anxieties at the prospect of having to marry someone else.

'This is ridiculous.' Sam told the darkness as he stared up at his ceiling. He'd thought his six dates idea was inspired, but Mercedes had been right to point out that she had commitments she couldn't ignore. Truth be told, so did Sam, but he'd been prepared to try if it meant staying with Lark. The problem was, Sam realised, that his Lark didn't have the luxury of any of that. She lived in a very inexpensive part of the kingdom and, according to Sebastian, she was working three jobs and still barely managing to scrape by. Obviously, Sam would have to bring up the need for a national minimum wage with his father, but that wasn't really the point. Mercedes' life was so far removed from his own that Sam literally had no idea what her life was like on the days when she didn't see him. It didn't help that Mercedes never seemed to want to talk about it, but shouldn't he know these things about the woman he wanted to marry?

Lifting an arm to drape over his head, Sam groaned inwardly at the realisation. Mercedes knew his world, and her own, but what did he know? Once again, his Lark was right, Sam didn't know her at all, because he didn't know her _world_. He'd never even been to her apartment - although that was mostly because Mercedes did everything in her power to stop him from going there.

Sam's eyes widened as a sudden and unpleasant thought occurred to him. Was Mercedes ashamed? Whether she was ashamed of him or ashamed of where she came from, she definitely seemed to want to keep things hidden, and if his Lark was feeling that way at all then it was a problem, and one that Sam saw it his duty to try and fix. Mercedes had made such a big deal about not fitting in with the Court women, but Sam had assumed all those things were to do with knowing the bizarre rituals that came along with the territory, like knowing which fork to use at dinner. Even having heard her talk about not being 'good' for the kingdom, Sam had never fully processed what that meant until now.

Sam lay in the darkness for a while longer as he let that information sink in and settle in his body. He drifted asleep at about two in the morning, and by the time he woke up four hours later, he had an idea.

/

Kurt answered the door with his toothbrush still held in his hand. He could have left it in the bathroom, of course, but he wanted whoever it was at the door to know that they were calling at a ridiculous time in the morning… but he didn't want to say it.

'May I help…' Kurt began as he swung the door open, stopping mid-sentence as he caught sight of who was on the other side. He inhaled deeply in surprise, which proved to be a mistake as he accidentally breathed in his own saliva and ended up having a coughing fit on the doorstep.

'Kurt!' Tina yelled as she padded out of her bedroom and into the living room to get some breakfast. 'Out, or in! We don't have enough money to heat our _apartment_ let alone the hall-' Tina cut herself off as she came around Kurt and stared, her eyes going wide. 'Well, _shit_.'

Mercedes came out of her room tying the short apron of her diner uniform around her whilst simultaneously scanning the room for her keys. Catching sight of her friends stood staring out into the hallway she chuckled as she threw her hair up into a messy bun and secured it with some hairpins she found on the counter.

'You guys, I know we had to get rid of our TV, but I'm sure there are better forms of entertainment.' Mercedes teased, finally locating her keys and shoving them into the pocket of her apron.

'No there aren't.' Tina answered without turning, her gaze still fixed out into the hallway.

'Um…'

Mercedes stopped in the middle of sliding her feet into her shoes when she heard it. Just one word -not even a word really, more of a sound - but she still recognised it. Recognised the voice, which was one she _definitely_ shouldn't have heard here. Feeling her heart skip into panic mode, Mercedes scanned the dismal apartment she shared, forcing herself to see it with an outsiders perspective. The place she called home was a home because of the people in it, but when you looked at the place itself… it seemed meagre and embarrassing. Mercedes felt tears of shame prick her eyes as she forced herself towards the door, her limbs like lead as she propelled herself forward in time to hear Sam clear his throat and say, 'Is Mercedes home?' in the most uncertain tone she'd ever heard him use.

'I'm here.' Mercedes volunteered, gently pushing Kurt and Tina out of the doorway when they continued to stare dumbstruck at Sam. Staring up at Sam standing in the unfamiliar setting of her hallway, Mercedes felt her world being pulled sharply into focus. It really was no wonder Kurt and Tina couldn't stop staring, Mercedes thought as she drank in the sight of him, he looked unreal in such mundane surroundings. He was too clean, too polished, too… _expensive_ to look like he belonged there. He was practically radiating it, and Mercedes felt a momentary panic before a quick sweep of the hallway confirmed the presence of one of Sam's bodyguards.

'What are you doing here, Sam?' Mercedes asked finally as she stepped through the door and pulled it to behind her. The action didn't go unnoticed by Sam, who frowned slightly before letting his eyes roam over her body one more time. He knew he shouldn't, but that uniform his Lark was wearing was doing all sorts of things to him and his imagination.

'Uh…' Sam began unintelligently, and then cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from Mercedes' curves to look into her glistening eyes. 'Have you been crying?' he asked instantly, stepping forward to cup her cheek in his hand. 'Who upset you?' he demanded, already prepared to make whoever it was regret it in the most sincere ways possible.

'No-one.' Mercedes wrapped her arms around herself as she stepped away from Sam's touch. 'What are you doing here?'

Sam's eyes narrowed for a second as he studied her. He knew that something was wrong by the way she chewed at her lower lip, but he could tell that she didn't want to talk about it yet.

'I have a new proposition.' Sam began, 'Instead of the six dates.'

Mercedes sighed and readjusted her arms around herself as she looked up at him. Maybe it was the flatter shoes she was wearing, but he seemed so much taller in her hallway than he had before.

'Sam…' Mercedes looked as if she was going to say something else, and then thought the better of it. 'I have to go to work.'

'I'll drive you.'

'I walk.'

'Then I'll walk you.'

Mercedes licked her lips and nodded. Sam had that steely expression in his eyes that meant he was going to be stubborn, and she didn't really have the time to argue anyway.

'Let me get my coat.' she acquiesced, opening the door a crack to slip through and reappearing a moment later with her coat and her purse in her hands. Sam took the coat from her wordlessly and helped her into it, his hands lingering on her shoulders as he smoothed the material out beneath his fingers.

'I get the impression you don't like that I showed up here.' Sam offered as they made their way down the four flights of stairs out of her building. 'I'm really sorry if I upset you.'

Mercedes nodded, pulling her coat tighter with one hand as they walked. 'I-' she started, and then decided to just tell the truth instead of the placating lie she'd been about to tell.

'I don't like it.' she admitted quietly as Sam held open the door to the street for her. 'For a lot of reasons. One being that it's dangerous.'

Sam nodded as his hand interlaced automatically with hers. 'I figured you'd say that.' he acknowledged. 'Which is why I let the bodyguards tag along this time.' he gave an answering shrug to her dubious expression as they continued walking. 'I've had extensive military training, you know - it comes with the crown. The bottom line is that I can take care of myself, but I figured you'd feel better knowing there was someone watching my back.'

Mercedes nodded, both surprised and touched that he'd considered her feelings so thoroughly.

'But,' Sam added, 'me being here is also part of my plan.'

Mercedes nodded again, her earlier apprehension seeming to dissipate with every step they took.

'Right. Your proposition.' she prompted, and Sam grinned at her in response, nudging her slightly with his shoulder.

'Ok, hear me out.' Sam insisted already guessing that she wouldn't initially like the sound of his idea. '…I'm going to spend a month living here.'

It took Mercedes a few paces to absorb what Sam had just put forward, but when she did she stopped dead on the street and fixed him with a hard stare.

'That doesn't seem-'

'I need to know where you come from, Lark.' Sam insisted, that stubborn look back in his eyes again. 'This world is part of who you are, and if I'm going to get to know _you_ , then I'm going to have to know _this_.' He extended a broad hand to gesture at the drab grey architecture around them. 'I don't want you hiding from me anymore.' he added softly, bringing his hand up to Mercedes' chin and placing a quick, gentle kiss on her lips. 'Not a single part.'

'I'm not-' Mercedes began to protest, and then thought of the way she'd hidden her apartment from Sam earlier. Sighing, she nodded her head in agreement. 'Ok.'

'Thank you.' Sam pressed another kiss to her mouth before squeezing her hand gently to get them walking again. 'I realised last night that I was asking a lot of you, wanting you to enter my world without seeing yours. It seemed only fair that I do this.' he paused for a moment to move some of the hair the wind had whipped into his face away again.

'Then the next month, I want you to come stay with me.' Mercedes' eyebrows shot up at this unexpected twist on the twist, her head already shaking her rejection of the idea before she'd even thought of the reasons why not.

'It's the only way I can think of to introduce you to my world and give you the best chance.' Sam admitted. 'It won't be easy. There'll be etiquette lessons and politics and elocution classes… I don't think you need them, but I understand that these are the skills that would make you feel the most comfortable at Court.' he shrugged. 'If you're serious about this being fair, then that's the best I can do to make it so in the short period of time we have. You can start before you take up residence in Court if you'd like,' he offered, 'but I don't know how busy you'll be with your jobs.'

Mercedes nodded slowly, realising, as Sam had, that although it was terrifying, this was the only way she'd really be in with a fighting chance of proving the Queen wrong.

'And the last month?' Mercedes asked tentatively, her steps gradually slowing down as they neared the diner.

'The last month will be wedding preparations.' Sam said, wincing. 'I know it seems really soon, but we don't have a lot of time and I figure that we'll know by then, right?'

Mercedes chewed her lip thoughtfully. 'What about the other woman?'

'I'll still see her.' Sam agreed, hating the fact that he'd have to go through that charade despite the fact that his choice was already made. 'Once a week, same as before.'

Mercedes was silent for a long moment as she weighed up the pros and cons of this new idea in her head.

'I'd have to get some guarantee that I can come back to my jobs after the month with you.' she insisted, calming when Sam nodded.

'I'll have Puck arrange it.'

There was another moment of silence and then Mercedes held out her hand for Sam to shake.

'Ok.'

'Ok.' Sam couldn't help but grin as he took Mercedes hand in his, shook it once and then raised it to his lips for a kiss.

'You better get to work.' he told her quietly, leaning in to give her another lingering kiss on her mouth before she left. 'Have a good day, Beautiful.'

Mercedes smiled and shook her head at the domesticity of the moment before she stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek.

'You too, Kermy.' she murmured into his ear before she turned and headed across the street to the diner.


	22. Chapter 22

Mercedes picked nervously at her fingernails as she stared at her front door anxiously, her leg twitching as she shifted in her seat and then decided she'd preferred the first position, shifting back again mere seconds after she'd first moved.

'Oh dear GOD!' Kurt burst out, completely unable to take Mercedes' nervous energy any longer. 'It's Prince Samuel, the man is _literally_ Prince Charming, he'll be _fine_.'

'He's also the guy who's never had a steady job in his life, Kurt.' Mercedes argued, standing up to pace her apartment, 'Plus, he doesn't want anyone to know who he is, so he's not going to get special treatment for being… You know…'

'The future king?' Kurt supplied wryly. 'I don't see how that's going to work. He's got a pretty recognisable face.'

There was a knock on the door and Mercedes' whole body tensed as she went into full alert mode. Walking stiffly to the door, Mercedes let it swing open, being careful to keep her face neutral in case Sam hadn't got the-

'I got the job!'

Mercedes felt herself lifted off the ground and swung around by strong arms before she had a chance to look at Sam's face, but the elation and pride etched there was plain for anyone to see once he'd set her down.

'Congratulations, Kermy!' Mercedes flung her arms around Sam as soon as her feet hit the floor, squeezing him tightly against her. She hadn't been thrilled with Sam's plan initially, but in the week and a half since she and Sam had decided to follow through with it, the prince had wasted absolutely no time in getting an apartment, applying for jobs, and-

'Your HAIR!' Kurt yelled as soon as he poked his head around the doorframe, staring at Sam's head with a combination of shock and horror.

Sam blushed and lifted a hand to finger his newly dyed locks. Puck had told him to go dark, but he'd decided on this particular hair colour after Mercedes had suggested it, pointing out that most people wouldn't expect it, and not only that, but people were more likely to register that his hair was ginger than they were to think about how much he looked like the prince.

'Actually,' Kurt said thoughtfully after a few seconds had passed as he began circling Sam as if he were an exhibit at a museum, 'I quite like it, Titian suits you.'

'Thank you.' Sam offered Kurt a brief, gracious nod before sliding his gaze back to Mercedes'.

'Your boyfriend's a redheaded mechanic now…' Sam bit his lip nervously, his green eyes questing. 'You ok with that?'

Mercedes smiled and nodded, her arms snaking up around Sam's neck again as his hands found their home on her waist.

'I still think you're crazy for doing this… but yes, I am ok with it.' Mercedes kept her eyes steady on Sam's for a beat, just so he would know that she was being sincere, and then stood up on tip-toes to plant a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. 'I'm proud of you.'

Sam beamed, his cheeks turning pink as he pulled Mercedes closer to him, holding her flush against his body as she giggled and nuzzled his chest.

'OooOoOoK!' Kurt cleared his throat, reminding the couple that he was still there as Sam's hands began to migrate south. 'You know I love you Mercedes, and I like you too, Your Highness, but I _really_ wouldn't mind if you saved the hot and heavy stuff for someplace I'm not.'

Mercedes, for her part, did look a little bit guilty as she pulled out of Sam's arms and surreptitiously wiped some of his chapstick off her mouth, but Sam just draped an arm around her waist and looked completely unperturbed.

'Firstly, Kurt, _please_ just call me Sam… or Garrett, I guess. The guys at the shop know me as Garrett Samuels now,' he explained. 'And second, I _tried_ to get Lark to stay with me in my new apartment, but she refused.'

Sam turned to fix his girlfriend with an impish glare but she was having none of it.

'It's too soon.' she insisted in a tone that clearly said that they'd had this argument before.

'We're going to be married in three months!' Sam countered, which only served to make Mercedes roll her eyes.

' _Maybe,_ ' Mercedes allowed, 'or maybe you'll be marrying Melissa.'

…And just like that, the good mood in the room evaporated at the sound of the other woman's name. Kurt looked like he'd seen someone wearing spots and stripes together, and Sam's teeth were clenched so tight that Mercedes could see the muscles working in his jaw.

'I think I'll just…' Kurt murmured quietly, pointing in the direction of the door and then disappearing out of it like a shot.

There was silence for a few minutes after the door shut before Sam let out a deep sigh, carding a hand through his hair before going over to the couch and sitting down on it heavily. The room was small enough that it didn't take much for him to reach out and capture Mercedes' wrist, gently tugging her down to sit beside him. She hesitated for a moment, and then obliged with a sigh of her own.

'Why do you always put her in between us?' Sam started simply, his green eyes solemn on Mercedes' brown ones. 'It's like you throw her name up like a shield when you think I'm getting too close.'

Mercedes frowned and looked away, 'That's not what I'm-' she swallowed and started again, her eyes fixed on the threadbare carpet at her feet. 'I'm _not_ trying to push you away.'

There was another moment of silence as Sam studied the profile of the woman he loved, thinking how remarkable it was, how absurd that he had fallen in love with her in such a short space of time. How much she already meant to him and how completely incapable she seemed to be of seeing it.

'You know I'm not going to marry her.' he said after a while, the sentence spoken like an absolute truth.

The light caught Mercedes' eyes as she turned to look at him, and her eyes sparkled with it as she took Sam in for heartbeat before speaking.

'I think you need to give her a fair shot.'

'I don't love her!' Sam exploded, standing from the couch and releasing Mercedes' hand in frustration. 'I am _never_ going to love her.'

'You don't _have_ to, Sam!' Mercedes countered, standing up to face the man who had somehow stolen her heart - despite all the defences she'd had around it. 'You don't have to love her,' she repeated, her voice softening. 'but you might _need_ her, and neither you, nor I can rule out that possibility.'

Walking over to him, Mercedes placed a hand on Sam's bicep and guided him back to the couch again, pressing him into the seat by his shoulders as he tried to avoid her eyes. She went to sit beside him, but Sam's long arms captured her and pulled her down onto his lap before she could do so. Mercedes sighed and covered his arms with her own as Sam propped his chin on her shoulder, and they sat quietly for a moment, breathing softly together as they let the sudden spark of the argument ebb out of the room.

'Seems like we're always arguing about the same thing.' Sam uttered after a while, his voice rough and low in Mercedes' ear.

'I know…' Mercedes nodded, 'and you know why, right?'

Sam shook his head, the movement rocking them both gently from side to side.

'Because I'm right.' Mercedes told him softly, 'and you _know_ I'm right… but you don't want me to be.'

Sam turned to look at her his eyes shadowed by his lashes as he marvelled at her.

'You… are… very wise.'

Mercedes shrugged and shot him a shy smile. 'I just know you.' she breathed and Sam leaned in until his mouth hovered an inch away from hers.

'And that, is exactly why it's _you_ who should be by my side.'

Mercedes grinned as she leaned in to close the small distance between them.

'Why do you think I'm still in the game?'

/

Melissa let out the tiniest sigh as Sam sat next to her in the almost empty champagne bar. At least she could be grateful that no one would see her with Sam looking like... _this._ Melissa gave an internal grimace and then let out a tiny sigh. At least he wasn't particularly recognisable with his hair that atrocious shade. Really, as if _she_ would ever date a redhead, Melissa thought. The idea was so preposterous that she almost laughed.

'Did you enjoy the concert?' Sam asked after a long period of silence, and Melissa shot him a beatific smile. 'Oh, it was just divine.' she gushed, leaning forward to place a hand on his knee. 'I just adore Chopin, don't you?'

Sam smiled politely and wondered if it would be completely unchivalrous of him to move her hand. 'Absolutely.'

'Although,' Melissa went on looking thoughtful as she (thankfully) took her hand back. 'Nothing quite compares to the way Tanaka plays Chopin. Once you've seen him everyone else might as well just give up and go home.'

'I thought the pianist tonight played beautifully.' Sam opined gently, not wanting to disparage what was, to his mind, a superb performance. 'Shannon Beiste is widely regarded as one of the finest pianists in the world.'

Melissa wrinkled her nose and tipped her head to the side as though contemplating this idea. 'She was a little heavy handed for my taste.'

'Well,' Sam hedged, 'I trust you enjoyed the concert in general, at least?'

'Oh, absolutely!' Melissa smiled widely at him again, leaning over to give his knee another pat and letting her hand linger again. 'It was _very_ romantic.'

Sam's ears turned pink as he raised his champagne glass to his lips to give himself something to do.

'Maybe, after this we could...' Melissa leaned in, her lips so close to Sam's ear that he could feel her soft exhalations on his skin. 'I don't know... head back to my place for a while?'

Melissa's hand ghosted higher up Sam's knee. 'And... _talk?_ '

Sam's eyes drifted to the clock above the bar as he tried to figure out how to extricate himself from the awkwardness of this situation.

'Actually...' he began, licking suddenly dry lips. 'Um, I have to work tomorrow. So, I'll have to head straight home... pretty soon. Sorry.'

Melissa leaned back, looking irritated and let out a soft huff of annoyance.

'That place _isn't_ your home, Sam.' she corrected him. 'Really, don't you think this experiment has gone on long enough?'

Sam's eyes widened at the complete change in Melissa's manner and he watched as she leaned against the back of her seat and folded her arms.

'Experiment?' Sam repeated.

'With your " _Nightingale_ ".' Melissa explained, looking for all intents and purposes like a petulant three year old on the verge of a tantrum. 'Honestly, Sam, you're a Prince, not a commoner. I don't see why you insist on living in such an awful place and doing all that manual labour... It's... well, quite frankly it's _distateful_ , Sam. She must know that you're making fun of her.'

Now it was Sam's turn to look annoyed. 'I'm _not_ making fun of her.'

'Oh?' Melissa demanded. 'And how many kings have you met that stink of motor oil and fix cars for a living?'

'How many kings have you met _in general_ , Melissa?' Sam shot back, and then his manners kicked in and he had the good grace to look ashamed. 'Forgive me, that was unkind.'

Melissa softened, and, uncrossing her arms, reached out a hand to cover Sam's. 'I'm trying to understand your need to do this, Sam. Truly, I am, but you have to understand that it's difficult for me. Surely know that what you're doing now can only _ever_ be temporary. It's not who you really are, Sam. Her world can never be yours.'

'I-' Sam began, and then trailed off as soon as he realised that he really didn't know what to say.

/

Sam stared at his account books for the past two weeks and groaned. How had he not realised how difficult this was? How did his people survive on these wages when the cost of living was so damn high?

'Baby, I'm so sorry.' Sam said, turning in his chair to face Mercedes, who was busying herself making tea for them both in his tiny kitchen. 'I don't think I can afford to take you out this week.'

Sam looked utterly ashamed at his perceived failing, but Mercedes placed his tea in front of him on the table before wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders.

'It's ok, honey. I understand.'

'But I've been working so hard.' Sam reasoned, 'I picked up extra shifts at the shop, stayed 'til all hours, got a part time job at a cafe… how is it that I'm still only barely scraping by?'

Mercedes shrugged and propped herself on his lap, stroking his hair as his arms went around her. 'That's just the way things are.' she allowed, 'we don't have to pay taxes, which is great, but there's no government-mandated minimum wage here either, which means businesses who care more about money than people can pay their employees nothing and then keep all the profits,' she sighed as her nails lightly grazed his scalp and Sam's eyes closed reflexively at the feeling. 'And the employees stay because they still have to eat and pay rent just like everybody else, and there's no guarantee that if they left it'd be any better.'

Sam frowned, his eyes fluttering slowly open to look at her.

'That's terrible.'

'That's life.' Mercedes said matter-of-factly, leaning in drop a kiss on the end of his nose. 'Welcome to the real world.'

'No wonder you have to work three jobs.' Sam mused as Mercedes stood up to get her own tea. 'I can't believe I had no idea how bad this was.' he noted, coming to a decision as he mulled his discovery over. 'I'm going to propose a change to the legislation and establish a minimum wage.'

Sam stood and followed his girlfriend into the kitchen, coming up behind her and breathing in the scent at her neck as she stirred her mug gently.

'Do you think anyone would go for it?' Mercedes asked, not wanting to rain on Sam's parade but needing to know that he'd thought this through.

'It doesn't really matter if they do or they don't.' Sam reasoned. 'I'm going to be king, and as long as it makes sense and doesn't send us into economic crisis, then I'm doing it.' Sam stepped away from Mercedes and retrieved his tea from the table. 'This is hard for _us_ , Lark, and we don't have families, or sick relatives or _anything_ that might make our lives more difficult.' Sam argued. 'I can't claim to care for my people while condemning them to live like this.' His voice softened. 'This will be good for the kingdom.' Sam reached out a hand, warm from clutching the mug, and put it to Mercedes' cheek, swiping a thumb affectionately across the soft skin at the apple. 'You are opening my eyes to a world I didn't know, but should have.' he smiled reassuringly. 'You are a blessing, and I'm sorry I can't take you on a date deserving of your worth.'

Mercedes snorted and batted Sam's hand away from her face, aiming a soft smack at his abdomen in reaction his words before leaning in to give him a kiss.

'Silly Prince, still trying to equate worth with money.' she teased, playing with the hem of his simple t-shirt. 'Do you know what my perfect date would be?'

Sam opened his mouth to answer and then quickly shut it again, suddenly realising that he didn't, actually.

'It would be staying in, cooking a dinner here, with you, and then snuggling up next to you on that hot mess you call a couch to watch a movie.'

Sam stared at her for a moment, waiting for a punchline that never came.

'Are you serious right now?' he asked dubiously, sputtering out a giggle as Mercedes' tickled his abdomen in revenge for his disbelief.

'Yes!' Mercedes tipped her head to one side, her expression puzzled. 'Look, I know that where you're from the women are used to a certain level of luxury - they expect it, I suppose… but I thought part of the point of you being here was to realise that I don't need any of that, I just want you. The man you are, not the title.'

Sam nodded tightly, his jaw clenching against the lump forming in his throat.

'Hey,' Mercedes said, peering up at him with concerned eyes after a few moments had passed without a response. 'You ok?'

Sam swallowed and nodded, reaching up to nonchalantly swipe at his eyes before shooting Mercedes a wide grin. 'Yeah,' he assured her, 'I just… I really love you, is all.'

Mercedes gave him a curious smile back and then playfully poked at his side.

'Me too, my dorky prince.'

'Na-uh!' Sam commanded, holding Mercedes' hands against his chest. 'No titles, remember? Not even endearing ones.'

Mercedes pouted and Sam laughingly booped her nose.

'Tonight we're just Sam and Mercedes,' he announced, 'Untitled.'

'Just Sam and Mercedes…' Mercedes repeated, thinking it over for a second before a slight smile crossed her face.

'Ok.'


	23. Chapter 23

The end of the month came far sooner than Mercedes would have liked. Yes, things were still difficult financially, but Mercedes had quickly grown used to the version of Sam who came home tired after a long day of work with grease under his fingernails. She got used to the guy who wasn't as naive about the way the world worked, and the man who could work beside her. Garrett Samuels fit into her world, and he was _hers_. Mercedes knew it was selfish, but while Sam was someone who came from someplace alien, Garrett sat comfortably in the world Mercedes knew. He had friends Mercedes knew and liked, came home and relaxed with a beer (on the days they could afford it), and talked to her without pretence, but as the number of remaining days dwindled, Mercedes started to think about what would happen when the month was over. Garrett Samuels would disappear again, and Prince Samuel Garrett Fitzwilliam Evans would return - and he inhabited a world that Mercedes _didn't_ understand. At all.

'Do we **have** to go?' Mercedes asked Sam with a week left to spare, her head in his lap as he softly stroked her hair. The remaining week was weighing heavy on her mind, and although she had tried to keep the doubts at bay, they were beginning to stifle her. 'I mean… I know we have to go, but… do we **_have_** to go?'

Sam let out a low chuckle, but stilled it as he caught the seriousness in Mercedes' eyes.

'Yes, we do.' he admitted. 'But you might like it. I mean, you'll never have to want for anything. Not like here.' he added soberly. They'd worked hard and saved every penny they could, but both he and Mercedes had struggled to make ends meet the entire month.

'Yeah…' Mercedes agreed, 'but we're happy here.' she added, 'and you're mine… aside from a few times when you went out with Melissa. Garrett is pretty much my dream guy.' Sam raised a questioning eyebrow.

'And Samuel Evans isn't?'

' _Prince_ Samuel Evans is… complicated.' she corrected. 'I understand this version of you, and I understand this world… as soon as this month is over I'm going to lose all of that again… and I really like my red-headed mechanic boyfriend.' Sam laughed as Mercedes pouted and leaned down to plant a kiss on her pursed lips.

'Even if he "stinks of motor oil"?' Sam asked, mentally flashing back to the accusations Melissa had leveled at him that night.

'You don't stink.' Mercedes frowned, lifting a hand to smooth out the worry lines that had formed on Sam's forehead. 'Besides, I actually really like it when you smell like the shop.' she admitted with a tiny shrug. 'It's nostalgic for me. My dad owns an auto shop so I grew up around cars.' she shrugged again, 'I don't know, in a way it makes me feel more connected to you.'

Sam smiled and snuggled into Mercedes' neck, his lips stretching into a soft grin at the softness and scent of her. 'Then I'm going to have to procure an Eau de Autoshop cologne.' Sam resigned, letting out a chuckle at Mercedes' answering giggle. After a moment his voice took on a more serious note as he caught Mercedes' eye.

'I'm going to miss being Garrett too, you know, but he's still in here. He'll just have different responsibilities and fancier clothes... and if it helps, I can keep hold of the outfit.' Sam raised his eyebrows suggestively, and Mercedes was forced to abandon her pouting for the giggles that broke through.

'You are such a dork!' she accused, and then softly added. '...But you should definitely keep it.'

'My dork princess!' Sam proclaimed and nuzzled Mercedes affectionately again, sighing against her skin as she moved to sit up.

'How are things going with Sebastian and Blaine?' Sam asked after Mercedes had rearranged herself on the couch next to him. 'Do you feel like you're getting somewhere?'

Mercedes shrugged noncommittally, 'sort of?'

'Are you asking me, or telling me?' Sam asked playfully as Mercedes huffed a sigh and propped her feet under her on the couch.

'It's… really hard.' she admitted after a moment's thought. 'There are a lot of rules to learn, and titles, and etiquette. Plus, Sebastian has me learning two additional languages because he says it's "necessary".'

Sam nodded in agreement. 'It certainly helps.'

Mercedes frowned, 'I know, but… wait, how many languages do _you_ speak?'

'Twelve.' Sam answered automatically. 'But it doesn't matter about me,' he added quickly when Mercedes groaned loudly and flopped face down into a couch cushion. 'You weren't being raised for the throne.'

Mercedes peeked over the edge of the cushion to raise a single eyebrow at her boyfriend.

'No, shit, Sherlock, what was it that tipped you off?' Lifting herself up further, she poked her tongue out at him, and then giggled when Sam leaned over and tried to bite it. 'I don't know if I'm ever going to get the hang of all this.' she told him sadly, 'I still have so much to learn, and Mel-'

Sam's lips stopped the name before it could fully leave Mercedes' mouth, his kiss lingering warm and soft for a moment before he withdrew again.

'Every time you try to suggest that _that woman_ is better for me than you,' Sam announced, 'I'm going to show you why you're wrong.'

'By kissing me?' Mercedes asked incredulously, but a small, dopey smile lingered on her lips from Sam's kiss.

'Sometimes,' Sam allowed. 'Not always.'

'Well, what else will you do?' Mercedes wondered.

Sam smirked and planted a kiss on her temple. 'You don't want to know, Sweet.'

/

'It's weird that you won't be able to hang out with us anymore.' Tina said bluntly as she, Kurt, Quinn and Mercedes sat in the living room of their apartment for Sam and Mercedes' leaving party. 'I mean, I kinda got used to you.' she added with a shrug as she took a swig of her beer. 'You know?'

'Yeah,' Sam laughed and wrapped an arm around Mercedes' waist as she came to sit with him on the couch, 'I do. We can still hang out, though.' he insisted, 'We're just going to the palace, it doesn't mean we'll never see you guys again.'

'Yeah,' Quinn agreed, 'but you won't be able to come here anymore.' she pointed out, 'neither of you will. It won't be safe once people know who you are, and anyway, it won't be the same.'

Sam felt Mercedes shift slightly in his arms, and knew without a doubt that Quinn's words had hit her hard. They'd talked about the move a lot over the past few days, but with them leaving the next day, Sam could tell that everything was becoming uncomfortably real for his Lark.

'I think I need a-' Mercedes began, gesturing vaguely to her half full glass and pulling out of Sam's arms to quickly leave the room. He put his beer down to go after her, but Tina waved him off, getting up and following Mercedes out of the room.

Tina found Mercedes sitting on her bed and staring listlessly at the ugly worn-down dresser the two of them had dumpster dived when they'd first moved to town and been even more broke than they were now.

'Hey.' Tina said, quietly announcing her presence as she slipped through the door and sat next to Mercedes on the bed.

'Hi.'

Tina stared at Mercedes for another moment or two, waiting for something else, and then straightened her shoulders when she didn't get one.

'Ok, what gives?' Tina demanded, the sudden change in her tone causing Mercedes to turn and look at her friend in shock.

'What?'

'You have your fuckin', fairytale prince in there,' Tina began, 'you are _literally_ living a fairytale right now, and you're in here moping.'

'I'm not _moping_ ,' Mercedes protested feebly, 'I'm-, I-' she thought for a second and frowned. 'Well, I'm _not_ moping.'

Tina fixed Mercedes with a disbelieving look.

'I just… got sad, is all.' Mercedes protested, lamely.

'Why?!' Tina insisted, 'What is there even to be sad about? So you won't be able to come here anymore? Big whoop! You think I'd want to come back here if I didn't have to?'

'But-'

'But nothing.' Tina interrupted, leaning over to take Mercedes' hands in hers. 'Mercedes, look around for a minute. This is not the life that any of us wanted, this is not what we dreamed of having. You're about to go off to better, and you're scared because it's different, and I get that, but Sweetcheeks, you were never meant to stay here.'

Mercedes pouted and then said, '… Sweetcheeks?'

'Not important.' Tina reprimanded. 'Why are you upset?'

Mercedes sniffed and shrugged, 'Everything is going to change, and I'm scared I'll get lost in them, and lose you guys.'

Tina snorted, and then wrapped her arms around Mercedes in a tight hug. 'Bitch, you ain't gonna lose me. You think I haven't already picked my outfits for when I got to tea at the palace?' Mercedes couldn't help but smile at that. 'I'm already flashing forward to the girly royal pamper nights we're gonna have,' she continued, 'and, no offence, girl, but don't think I'm not going to use 'close, personal friend to the Queen' to get me a little closer to those dreams of mine.'

Mercedes chuckled, 'I might not actually be the Qu-'

'Shut up!' Tina instructed, suddenly firm. 'If you seriously think Sam is going to choose anyone but you then you have another think coming, missy!'

'"Missy?"' Mercedes repeated incredulously, '"Sweetcheeks"? Why are you talking like a 1940s noir detective?'

Tina shrugged and pretended to smoke a cigar. 'Because I am, see?'

Mercedes snorted and pressed her forehead against her friend's. 'Thanks, T.' she told her, genuinely grateful for the kick up the butt her friend had provided. 'I think the prospect of change overwhelmed me for a minute.'

Tina nodded as she stood up and held out a hand for Mercedes to take. 'Change can be overwhelming,' she admitted, 'I'm still trying to get used to the idea of _Noah_ _Puckerman_ subletting your room, for example, but then, what's the point of life without it?'

/

'You know this, Mercedes!' Sebastian encouraged, his eyes on the woman sat primly in front of an elaborately laid table.

'Now, you are served fois gras, the utensil you use is…' Sebastian nodded, pleased as Mercedes pointed to the correct one. 'Lobster?'

Sebastian smirked as Mercedes once again chose the correct utensil.

'and Kobe beef steak?' Mercedes hesitated, then pointed to the correct silverware on the table in front of her, at which Sebastian clapped his hands together once in approval. 'I think you've got it! Now we can move on to-'

'I beg your pardon, Smythe, but I think you'll find it's my turn.' Blaine cut in, smiling warmly at Mercedes.

Sebastian didn't look too pleased at the interruption, but ultimately he waved his hand.

'We'll pick up from here tomorrow then. Goodnight, Miss Jones.'

'Thank you, Your Grace.'

Mercedes rose, dropped a curtsy impeccably chosen for Sebastian's station, and took Blaine's arm as he led her away from the great dining room in which Sebastian had been conducting her lessons.

'How are your lessons going?' Blaine asked in French as he guided her to the large library in a separate wing.

'Quite well.' Mercedes answered, less fluently, 'His Grace is a good teacher. He is angry sometimes but.'

'His Grace is a good teacher _but_ he is angry sometimes.' Blaine corrected. 'Angry'?' he queried, 'Sebastian is angry?'

Mercedes considered for a moment and then shook her head, 'I think… um… irritable?' she tried, 'like 'grumpy'?' she said in English, nodding when Blaine gave her the correct word in French.

'You're doing well.' Blaine continued in English as he held the library door open for her. 'Far better than I would have expected at this point, truthfully.'

Mercedes sighed and shook her head. 'I feel like there is too much to learn and not enough time to do it in,' she admitted, at which Blaine smiled and patted her hand.

'You have a lifetime to learn, Mercedes.' he assured her, 'Everyone is captivated by you, and your romance with the prince.' Blaine explained, 'No one expects you to be perfect.'

Mercedes' face remained expressionless, 'The Queen does.'

Blaine frowned slightly, and then, almost so quietly that Mercedes missed it, he said, 'Yes, well, The Queen may not be quite as right as she believes herself to be.'

'And Melissa.' Mercedes added, to which Blaine scoffed loudly and flicked his hand as though waving away a bad smell. 'That girl couldn't compete with you in her wildest dreams. I don't think she _blinks_ without strategising it first, and it hasn't gone unnoticed. The only time I've ever seen her unguarded is when it comes to you. I don't think she quite knows how to compute jealousy, since she's always gotten everything she ever wanted. We may be bound by customs and rules, Mercedes, but that doesn't mean we don't appreciate honesty and a kind, genuine spirit when we come across it.'

Mercedes regarded Blaine with a new-found respect as she considered his words. She had automatically assumed that most of the people at Court would loathe to have her in their ranks, but if Blaine was right, then public opinion was more on her side than she thought. Mercedes smiled to herself as she attacked her studies with renewed drive. Perhaps there was a place for her here after all.

/

Melissa Van Stratten pulled her coat closer around her as she looked furtively around the abandoned alleyway and knocked on a graffiti-covered door. A few moments later the door was opened a crack, and two brown eyes peered out of the gap at her.

'Yes?'

'I called a few days ago.' Melissa began, not bothering to introduce herself. 'You said you'd do a job for me.'

The eyes looked her up and down from around the door frame and then the voice spoke again.

'Right… you're the one who wanted me to dig up dirt on the prince's new girl.' the man agreed. 'I want my five hundred first.'

Melissa sighed, already tired of the intrigue and held out a roll of bills fastened with a rubber band.

'Now will you let me in and tell me what you found?'

A heavily tattooed arm extended out of the gap and plucked the bills from Melissa's grasp, disappearing back inside again as the door was promptly shut behind it. Melissa considered banging on the door again, but it swung open before she had a chance to raise her fist.

'Come in.'


	24. Chapter 24

Mercedes bit her lip anxiously as she tried to remember the correct carriage for a Viennese Waltz whilst she distractedly made her way towards the palace ballroom. Her brow furrowed with concentration as she moved on to trying to mentally translate the Waltz instructions into French, and then Mandarin, in preparation for the lesson she would have with Blaine almost as soon as she finished with Sebastian. Mercedes' frown deepened as she turned a corner and struggled over a word translation, her mind everywhere but on where she was going as she tried to remember the vocabulary she needed. After several busy weeks in the palace, Mercedes trusted that her feet knew where they were going, but she realised that she should should still have been paying attention when a hand reached out and yanked her into an alcove.

'I-' Mercedes began, raising her fists to whoever it was who had grabbed her, then lowering them again when she caught sight of who was in front of her.

'Sam, what are you doing?'

'Trying to get you alone.' Sam smirked, looping an arm around Mercedes' waist and tugging until her body met his. 'Because' he said as he walked her backwards until she was pressed gently against the wall.

'I haven't seen you-' he explained, bending to nip at the soft skin at the base of her throat,

'in-'

His lips brushed slowly along the curve of her neck, his warm breath making the skin where her shoulder sloped upwards tingle.

'Weeks.' Sam finished as Mercedes' eyes closed automatically with pleasure as he kissed the sweet spot just below her jawbone.

'You saw me yesterday.' Mercedes managed to get out breathlessly, her hands clutching at Sam's hair as his hands tightened around her waist.

'Doesn't count if my family are there.' Sam insisted, bobbing his head to kiss along Mercedes' exposed collarbone. Mercedes let out a soft moan that made his blood rush in his ears, and he saw stars when she dipped a hand under the hem of his shirt and dragged her nails lightly down his spine.

'But…' Mercedes breathed, and then forgot what she was about to say when Sam's lips found hers and his thumb grazed higher up her thigh.

'Sammy, I have a questi- _oh my God!_ '

Stacie's face went the colour of a ripe tomato as she popped her head round the corner of the nook and realised that Sam wasn't as alone as she'd previously thought.

'I'm so sorry!' Stacie backed away from the couple, the backs of her hands pressed to her cheeks as she tried to contain her embarrassment. 'I didn't realise you- I had no idea you- um… hi, Cedes.' Stacie acknowledged belatedly, giving a small, awkward wave in greeting. 'I didn't, uh, I didn't see you there.'

Mercedes, for her part, smiled at the younger woman and gently pushed an unhappy looking Sam away from her so she could move away from the wall.

'It's ok, Stace.' Mercedes soothed, patting her hair down as she moved out of the nook and into the corridor. 'I have to go see…' Mercedes blinked as she tried to remember the name of the person she'd been on her way to meet, but her senses were filled with nothing but Sam, and all she could to recall was how good he'd felt pressed up against her.

'I have to see…' she tried again, and then shook her head, ignoring Sam's smug smile as she spoke to Stacie.

'I have to go to class.' Mercedes explained, 'Your brother accosted me.' she added, trying to sound scandalised and failing. 'You should probably talk to him about that.'

'Will do.' Stacie agreed solemnly, her face breaking out into a wide smile a moment later as Mercedes blushed and tried to stifle a small, happy giggle with her hand.

'I better go.'

Mercedes straightened her skirt and finally spared a glance in Sam's direction, quickly looking away again with her lip between her teeth when he grinned and shot her a wink.

Stacie watched the other woman go off down the corridor again, shaking her head as if trying to rid herself of Sam-induced mugginess and couldn't help but grin when Mercedes turned around again and headed back towards them a few moments later.

'I meant to go…' Mercedes explained as she came past them again, her finger pointing lamely in the direction of the ballroom where she was due to meet Sebastian. She stuck her tongue out at Sam when he laughed at her, but it just seemed to make him laugh harder. Mercedes frowned, and then put a little extra swing in her hips as she walked away, knowing that the movement would torture Sam as he watched her go.

Stacie raised an eyebrow as she watched the unspoken exchange, biting her lip to keep the smirk off her face when Sam turned around and caught her watching him.

' _What?_ '

'Nothing.' Stacie shrugged. 'It's just… I don't think I've ever seen you this happy before.' she admitted.

'So… what does that mean?' Sam asked warily. 'Are you plotting my demise?'

Stacie shook her head. 'No. I hope it stays.' she broke off for a moment, before thoughtfully adding, 'She's good for you, you know.'

Sam smiled and dropped an arm around his little sister's shoulders, squeezing her into him in an affectionate one armed hug.

'We're good for _each other_.' he corrected. 'and I know.' his grin widened. 'She's the love of my life.'

'Good.' Stacie smiled, but slipped out of Sam's heavy, brotherly hold nonetheless. 'Because I actually like Cedes, unlike pretty much every other girl you've ever talked about ever.' her expression turned steely as she looked up at her much taller brother. 'Don't mess this up, Sam.' she commanded. 'Mercedes is pretty much the best thing that ever happened to this family and if you end up marrying Melissa Van Stratten I swear to _God.'_

Sam laughed, but nodded. 'Message received, Stace. Loud and clear.'

/

 _'What do you mean there's nothing?'_ Melissa demanded icily, her eyes locked on the face of her informant. 'I paid you to _find_ something!'

'There was nothing to find.' Mike Chang insisted, scratching one heavily tattooed arm and swivelling his chair away from the screeching harpy he'd foolishly let into his place.

'Give me my money back!' Melissa demanded, standing up and looking down her nose at him haughtily.

'No.' Mike said coolly, focusing his attention back onto his computer screen. 'You paid me to look. I looked. Not my fault if she hasn't done anything wrong.'

'I-' Melissa began, and then sat down again with a frustrated squeal. 'I don't understand how that gold digging whore could grow up in the ghetto and still not have any skeletons in her closet!' she frowned, 'Did you look-'

'I looked everywhere, Miss.' Mike interrupted, wishing the shrill woman would just leave him alone already. 'She's just a good person. Turns out they do exist. Faith in humanity restored.' He turned to shoot Melissa a brief, tight smile and then turned back to his monitor again. 'So, unless there's anything else…'

Melissa huffed and stood to leave, but then a thought occurred to her. She stopped for a second and examined it from all sides and then very carefully sat back down again, crossing one leg over the other.

'Make it up.' she demanded, her voice suddenly eerily calm.

Mike's finger froze above the computer mouse as he tried to figure out if he'd really just heard this woman say what he _thought_ he'd just heard her say.

'I'm sorry, _what_?'

'Make. It. Up.' Melissa repeated slowly. 'I know you can do it. All those places where you couldn't find anything…' she continued, 'just… put something there to find.'

'I don't do that.' Mike insisted, shaking his head as he stood to try and usher this woman out of his place.

'I'm not asking you to do it for free.' Melissa continued, refusing to get up from the couch she was sitting on. 'I'll double what I paid you. Triple it!' Melissa corrected when Mike just shook his head. 'There's got to be something you want.' she continued relentlessly. 'I may not be able to secure it for you now, but I'll have a lot more resources at my disposal when I'm queen.'

Mike took the woman's arm and lifted her out of the chair before gently guiding her to the door. 'I think it's time for you to leave.'

'I _**will**_ make this happen.' Melissa promised, wheeling around to face him. 'and if you won't do it, then I'll go to someone else. This is my last offer,' she warned, 'I can bring your family over from… wherever you're from!' she promised, her eyes bright with false sincerity. 'I'd be able to do that when I'm queen, just… bypass all the red tape.' she smiled a bright, pretty smile at Mike as he looked down at her in consideration for a few moments, his expression completely unreadable.

'I was born here.'

Mike reached around Melissa and unlocked the door, holding it silently open for her until she stalked through with a scowl on her face. She turned as if to say something else, but Mike swung the door shut behind her before she could make another sound.

/

Mercedes stood very still as a highly skilled, probably very expensive, hairdresser put the finishing touches to her hair and sprayed it with copious amounts of hairspray.

'Good.' Sebastian announced, watching the whole thing with a meticulous eye. 'Now, do you remember your lessons?' he asked her.

Mercedes bit back a sigh and nodded.

'Yes, Sebastian, my lessons are ingrained in my memory.' she assured the tall brunette for the fifteenth time that day.

'Ok… yes, good.' Sebastian nodded, his eyes flicking around the room nervously.

'WHAT ARE YOU DOING?' Sebastian leapt across the room just as a young make up artist hovered a laden eyeshadow brush above Mercedes' eyelid.

The young man let out a startled peep and quickly withdrew the brush.

'Make…up?' he asked timidly, at which Sebastian rolled his eyes so hard they almost got stuck in the back of his head.

'Not like that you're not!'

Mercedes opened her eyes as the make up artist leaned away from Sebastian and shot her mentor a steely glance. Turning to the make up artist she touched his shoulder and whispered a few soothing words to him before sending him, and the rest of the team, off for a break.

'Sebastian.' Mercedes began once the room was cleared.

'Your Grace.' Sebastian corrected automatically. 'In formal settings it's-'

' _Sebastian_.' Mercedes said again, this time in a voice that brooked no argument. 'Come here.'

Mercedes held out her hand, mindful of the long dressing gown she was wearing, and clasped Sebastian's hand when he put it in hers.

'This is really just wasting preparation time…' Sebastian babbled, his hand like ice in hers as he stood tensely in front of her.

'Sebastian.' Mercedes repeated, her voice firm. 'You have taught me well. _Exceptionally_ well, ' she clarified. 'I can cope with this. Everything will be fine.'

'Yes, but I-'

'Listen to me.' Mercedes commanded, ' _Everything will be fine_. You need to breathe and allow these people to do their jobs.'

'I-'

' _Breathe_.' Mercedes repeated.

She held Sebastian's gaze steadily with her own until she heard his breathing slow and felt his hand relax in hers.

'You ok?' she asked after a few moments had passed in silence.

Sebastian seemed to think about it for a moment. 'Yes.'

Mercedes smiled, 'Good. Now I'm going to let the beauty team back in here,' she told him. 'Try not to terrorise anyone.'

'I'll try.' Sebastian agreed, a ghost of a smirk crossing his face, 'but I can't make any promises.'

The short woman nodded and crossed to the door, opening it and holding it open for her team to come back into the room.

Once everyone was busy working on Mercedes again, Sebastian nodded and made to leave the room, stopping in his tracks when Mercedes glared at him. He frowned at her in question, and Mercedes answered by raising her eyebrows expectantly. Sebastian shook his head, but Mercedes raised a stern eyebrow until he sighed and cleared his throat.

'I'm… sorry.' he stiffly told the beauty team, who turned to look at him expectantly. 'For my behaviour a few moments ago. This is Mercedes' first official palace event and I am somewhat… _tense…_ as a result.' Sebastian explained. 'But I was out of line, and I apologise.'

Sebastian let out a deep exhale, as if he'd just been made to walk a tightrope over a shark tank, and shot Mercedes a tense, hopeful smile. His smile grew in earnest when Mercedes smiled back and nodded proudly at him and he let out another sigh before making his way quickly out of the room.

/

' _Wow_.'

Mercedes beamed as Sam stood back to take her in, biting his lip as his eyes travelled the length of her and back up again.

'Say what you like about Sebastian,' Mercedes said, sliding her hands over the skirts of her dress. 'but he sure knows how to pick out a good dress.'

'It's not the dress I'm looking at.' Sam told her, his eyes zeroing in on the movement of her hands. 'Let me do that.'

'Do what?' Mercedes asked innocently, and then got her answer when Sam reached for her, the heat of his hands bleeding through the thin material of her dress to warm her hips. ' _Oh._ '

' _Oh_.' Sam mimicked and then leaned in to kiss her.

'NOT on the face!' Sebastian insisted, slipping a hand between the couple before their lips could meet and then prising them apart.

'Her make up is _perfection_ right now.' Sebastian continued, ignoring Sam's scowl as he stood between them to link Mercedes' arm in his.

'I don't want you ruining it with your big-lipped kisses.'

Sam looked like he was contemplating murder, but Mercedes shot him an apologetic look and shrugged.

'Now, Mercedes,' Sebastian said, turning in to face the short, curvy woman and blocking Sam off completely in the process. 'I have taught you everything you need to know to flourish in this situation.' he smirked at her when he saw that she'd caught the echoes of her own speech in the one he was giving her now. 'Just relax, stay calm, and you will do wonderfully.' he leaned down and air kissed her on both cheeks before turning to look at Sam over his shoulder.

'I suppose I'll let you two to have a moment now.'

'Thanks, _so much_.' Sam sassed, and then let out a groan of exasperation when Stevie came up beside him and politely edged him out of the way.

'We're supposed to be going in now.' he explained. 'So… I'm going to need my date.'

Sam closed his eyes with exaggerated patience and then stepped back to allow Stevie to move in and offer Mercedes his arm with a wink and considerably more charm than Sam appreciated.

'Something is very wrong with this situation.' Sam complained as he watched Stevie say something that made Mercedes laugh.

'I agree, dear.' The Queen said as she linked her arm with the King's at the back of the procession line. 'But you _would_ insist on bringing her here.'

Sam figured it was lucky they started entering the great hall when they did, because he'd been about to say some very impolite things to his mother, but he was forced to move down the line away from her at that moment, and he plastered a smile onto his face as he took his seat next to Melissa van Stratten, all the while trying very hard not to watch Mercedes at the other end of the table.

'You look lovely as always, Melissa.' Sam said politely, inclining his head slightly to kiss the tall woman on the cheek.

Melissa preened, smiling up at him through her lashes as the King and Queen took their places at the head of the table. 'It's very kind of you to say.' she smiled coyly at him. 'You're looking very handsome yourself.'

'Thanks.'

Sam put a hand over his tie self-consciously before stealing another look down the table at Mercedes, only this time she was looking his way, and she wrinkled her nose playfully at him for a fraction of a second before turning away again to talk to Stevie.

'Was it something I said?' Melissa asked teasingly as they sat down and waited for the first course to be served.

Sam didn't realise his gaze had strayed to Mercedes again until Melissa spoke, and he was forced to look away, embarrassed to find that he hadn't caught a word of what Melissa had said.

'I'm sorry?'

'You're smiling.' Melissa beamed, her eyes crinkling as she leaned into him. 'I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that before, so I want to know what I did to make it happen.'

'Oh! Uh…' Sam's eyes drifted back towards Mercedes as he tried to figure out what to say to diffuse this situation. Truthfully, he hadn't even realised he _had_ been smiling, but apparently he had and Melissa had noticed…

'What is _she_ doing here?' Melissa asked suddenly, the coquettish huskiness in her voice turning caustic as she followed Sam's gaze and caught sight of Mercedes.

'I'm sorry, Sam, but when I agreed to this arrangement it was with the understanding that we wouldn't have to see each other. Now I find myself sitting down to dinner with her?' she let out an incredulous bark of laughter that was entirely unattractive, 'Are you on a date with both of us at the same time?' she demanded, careful to keep her voice down.

'No.' Sam reached for his water glass as he fought to keep his tone even. 'Mercedes is at the other end of the table, and she's _Stevie's_ date.'

Melissa scoffed, 'Well, I guess if she couldn't have one royal she _would_ settle for another.'

Sam set his glass down with a little more force than was necessary, and then grimaced when some of the water splashed over the side and onto the table. An attendant had the mess cleared up within seconds, but Sam was still mindful to keep his feelings in check when he spoke again.

'I'd thank you to be more respectful when talking about Miss Jones, Melissa.'

Catching the warning note in his voice, Melissa reeled herself in and sat back further in her chair, taking a moment to consider before she spoke again.

'I'm sorry,' she allowed as graciously as she could muster, 'I just…' she reached out a hand to cover Sam's, squeezing his fingers tenderly with her own, 'I just don't feel _comfortable_ having her here.'

Sam nodded and patted Melissa's hand patiently before removing it from his.

'I understand.'

Melissa sighed with relief, another warm smile already making its way onto her face.

'But you're going to have to get over it.' Sam finished, and Melissa's smile froze in a grimace.

'Excuse me?'

'Miss Jones is here because I want her to be.' Sam explained, reaching for his wine glass this time. 'and you may not like it, but that's the way things are.'

He cocked his head at her as if to say, ' _that's life_.' and took a sip of his wine.

'But this is _our_ world.' Melissa protested feebly, her mask slipping as she tried to understand how everything had managed to get away from her so spectacularly.

'And yet, she's doing remarkably well in it.' Sam acknowledged as he watched Mercedes effortlessly charm the older dignitary sitting next to her. 'I wonder how many of us could say the same if the roles were reversed?'

Melissa forced a smile onto her face when Sam turned back to look at her, but it dropped as soon as he turned away again. She made idle small talk for the rest of the meal, smiling where she ought to and laughing when it was required, but her eyes couldn't stop returning to Mercedes. Melissa had assumed that the other woman would eventually embarrass herself or prove herself generally unfit to be the bride of a future king, but now it seemed like Mercedes was going to be more competition than Melissa had bargained on. Much more, and if one thing was for certain, it was that if Melissa wanted to guarantee her position as future queen, then Mercedes Jones had to go.


	25. Chapter 25

Stacie frowned as the servant opened the door into Mercedes' rooms, her confusion growing as she found herself ushered in and the door firmly shut behind her.

'Cedes!' Stacie complained, her tone just south of a whine. 'What's going on? I have an appearance scheduled in 20 minutes and I'm going to be late!'

Irritatingly, Mercedes neither appeared, nor answered, and Stacie was about to turn around and leave again when the door flew open again behind her.

'Mercedes,' Stevie began, 'I don't want you to think that I'm not flattered, but we both know Sam is going to take me down if he finds out I've been having secret _rendez-vous_ with- Oh, hey, Stace.'

Stacie raised an eyebrow at her brother.

'So, she called you, too, huh?' she thought for a moment, 'I wonder why she'd need to see us and not Sam?'

Stevie shrugged and went to make himself comfortable in one of the plush chairs in the foyer. 'Maybe it's _about_ Sam?'

'It's about all of you, actually.' Mercedes cut in, finally appearing half hidden behind an armful of blankets. 'Can one of you grab some of these from me, please?'

Stevie quickly obliged, but Stacie continued to frown, her eyes returning frequently to her watch.

'Cede,' she began, 'you know I love you, but I'm booked for an appearance all day today, and I really don't want to miss it.'

Stevie, who had now taken all of the blankets from Mercedes and was trying to look as manly as possible while getting them under control, scoffed.

'So do I, Sis, but it's our future Sister-in-Law. Just chill out for once, would you?'

'Oh you _would_ say that, Stevie, but what _you_ don't realise is that I take my duties very seriously, I have an obligation to the-'

'You have an obligation to the people' Stevie mocked, sticking his tongue out at his sister. ' _You_ need to stop being such a stick-in-the-mud.'

'I'm _**NOT**_ a-'

'Guys!' Mercedes interrupted quickly, 'It's great that Stacie takes her duties so seriously, that's how it should be.'

Stacie preened.

'But… at the end of the day, you're _children,_ and you aren't meant to be all about duties and work.'

It was Stevie's turn to look confused. 'What does that mean?'

'It means,' Mercedes began, 'that we're going to play hooky for the day.'

She caught the twin blank looks on the royals' faces and sighed. 'It means you're going to take the day off.'

Stevie grinned, but Stacie still looked concerned, 'but what about-'

'The Day of Childhood event?' Mercedes finished, 'It doesn't exist, Sweetie. I made it up so I could guarantee that you two would have the day free to just be _kids_. It's important. At least, I think so... but if you'd rather go do something else-'

'No!' Stacie interjected quickly, 'No, I'm good with this. So… what are we doing?'

/

'Is this where you kill us?' Stevie asked between huffs of breath as he climbed what felt like the millionth step up into the castle turret. 'Because I'm pretty sure that between the water fight, cookie making and rounders game, this climb is going to do your job for you.'

'Don't be silly!' Mercedes admonished, skipping up the remaining steps until she reached the top. 'I just have something special planned for up here.'

Stevie exchanged a weary look with his sister and continued to trudge up the steps behind his future sister-in-law. How she managed to maintain her boundless energy while the two younger people had been thoroughly worn out, he didn't know. 'If the surprise is some of those cookies from earlier and a nap then I'm golden.'

'Not quite a cookie,' a voice said when the pair finally got inside, 'but I hope you'll accept me anyway.'

'Sam!'

Sam grinned and released his arm from around Mercedes' waist to hug his younger siblings. It seemed like he'd barely seen them lately, with his time being diverted by his own duties and preparing Mercedes for court.

'Mercedes invited me, I hope you guys don't mind if I crash.'

'Course not!'

'So, what are we doing up here?' Stacie asked curiously, eying the blankets on the floor and the little plates of snacks that had been set up on a nearby table.

'Oh!' Mercedes seemed to have been caught up in watching the royal family reunion, but quickly remembered herself and grabbed for a wheel set into the stone work on a far wall. 'I was exploring the palace one day and I found this, I think it's a throwback to when they used to spend a lot of time trying to decipher the skies. Check it out.'

She'd been turning the wheel while she'd been speaking, and gradually the ceiling above them opened up like an eyelid, allowing the clear night sky beyond to be visible from inside the tower.

'-Whoa.-'

'- That is SO cool.-'

'-I had no idea that was even here!-'

Mercedes smiled at the shared delight on the faces of her new family and ushered them over to the blankets, where they lay side by side and stared up in to the unfathomable deep of space.

'Sam?' She asked, turning to the man beside her as she slipped her hand into his. 'Do you want to do the honours?'

The prince beamed at her before rocking his head back to look at the sky again, lifting his free hand he pointed.

'Alright, so that formation right there is Orion.' Sam began, 'He was a great hunter, in love with a beautiful princess...'

/

Mercedes smiled graciously as she took the hand of the Marquess of S_ and curtsied, the older woman beamed at her and seemed to be entirely unwilling to relinquish Mercedes' hand when Mercedes rose again. After being seated next to the Mercedes at a recent banquet, the aging noblewoman seemed to have warmed to the young woman to the extent that she now, apparently, considered the young woman to be a particular acquaintance.

Of course, it hadn't taken long for Mercedes' presence at court to be noted, and she had quickly found herself surrounded by those social climbers who wanted to get in early with the woman they considered to be the future Queen.

'It was lovely to see you again, Marquess.' Mercedes enthused, carefully extracting her hand from the Marquess' dry, crinkled grip. Noticing Blaine gesturing at her from a short distance away, Mercedes was grateful to finally have an excuse to extract herself from the conversation.

'Please excuse me, I believe I am needed elsewhere.' Mercedes bobbed another curtsy, shot the Marquess a look of carefully contrived consternation, and tried not to run over to where Blaine was waiting for her with Sebastian and Puck in tow.

'Hi.'

'Hi' Blaine beamed happily, 'having fun?'

Mercedes sighed, her sunny demeanour dropping for a second as she sighed. 'I'd be having a lot more fun if I had Sam with me.'

Sebastian frowned slightly, 'I know, but unfortunately, until the two of you have officially announced that you're a couple then it wouldn't be wise for you to attend these events together.'

'Which really means that it won't happen until The Witch is squarely out of the picture.' Puck supplied, earning him a stern look from Mercedes.

'Don't call her that.' she reprimanded, 'Someone will hear you.'

Puck shrugged. 'They won't know which one I'm talking about.'

'Speaking of,' Blaine cut in again, 'There was another picture of you and Sam in the papers today. Cute dress by the way.'

Mercedes preened, 'Thanks, it's one of Kurt's designs. I figured if I was going to have photos of me in the national press, then I might as well do a little to promote my family while I'm at it. He says his sales have gone through the roof!'

'That's great, Mercedes' Blaine allowed, although he couldn't help but smile at her excitement for her friend, 'but The Witch is not going to like that you're being called 'Cinderella and her Prince Charming' in the National press. You need to watch out for her.'

'Don't you start, too!' Mercedes complained, barely resisting the urge to groan. 'First of all, _don't call her that_ , and second, who _cares_ what those people are calling me?'

'Melissa.' Puck answered bluntly, 'and she doesn't like to lose.'

/

The tapping of Sam's foot echoed across the garden as he leaned against a fountain, his arms folded tightly across his chest. Fidgeting, Sam uncrossed his arms and rubbed his sweaty palms on his dress slacks before mentally going over what he was going to say again. He knew he was doing the right thing. Knew it deep in his bones and in his soul, but that didn't mean that he wasn't nervous as heck.

 _'You rang?'_ Mercedes interrupted his thoughts with an impression that was ruined by her warm smile as she crossed the room and wrapped both arms around his waist. 'I missed you.'

'Missed you more.'

Sam sighed, breathing in her Christmas cookie scent as he hugged her back.

'Thank you for meeting with me.'

Mercedes raised a suspicious eyebrow and leaned out of his embrace.

'Ok, what's wrong?' she demanded, withdrawing her hands to put them on her hips. 'You've gone all formal which means you're nervous, and you're _trembling_ ' Mercedes hands dropped from her hips instantly as she took in Sam's demeanour, from his trembles to the sheen of his slightly damp forehead. 'Oh my God, Sam, are you ok?'

Pressing a hand to Sam's forehead, Mercedes didn't wait for Sam to reply before continuing. 'You're burning up. We should call the physic-'

'Mercedes…'

Peeling Mercedes' hands from his face, Sam wrapped the both in his large palms and held them to his chest.

'-ian. And your heart is _pounding_!" Mercedes continued with fresh alarm, flattening her palm against Sam's chest to feel the force of his heartbeat. 'Sam, you need to-'

'Mercedes…'

'-get to a doctor straight away! Why didn't you say you were feeling sick? Let me go call-'

 _'Will you stop fretting and let me propose to you, please?!'_

Mercedes froze, her body already half turned away to go fetch the doctor. Very slowly, she turned herself around so she was facing Sam again and folded her lips into her mouth obediently as stared up at him with wide eyes.

'O… Ok.' Sam stammered, alarmed to have the floor so suddenly. 'I… well, that is to say that…. It's time.' he stated simply, his speech flying right out of his head. 'I turn 25 in a month, and I've made my choice.'

'Are you sure?' Mercedes asked quietly, her doe eyes filled with more emotions than Sam could pinpoint. 'I've tried to learn as much as I can… but is it enough?'

'How can you even ask me that? Mercedes, what you've done is so incredible and brave. You're already leading and inspiring people just by _being here._ But I never want to lie to you, Lark… It'll probably never _feel_ like enough.' Sam told her honestly, letting go of her hands to wrap his arms around her waist when she looked momentarily dejected. 'Not for any of us: me, my brother and sister, or even my parents. We're just people with fancy titles, so there will **always** be things we don't know, and mistakes that we'll make. All we can do is try to learn and discover those things as best we can, as royals and as people.'

Pausing, Sam dropped a gentle, comforting kiss to his love's cheek before leaning back to look at his Lark again in earnest.

'Mercedes... Lark, if you truly felt like you knew "enough" then you wouldn't be right for this kingdom.'

Mercedes eyes turned glossy at his words, her lips trembling as she pressed her forehead to Sam's chest. '… You think I'm right for the kingdom?'

A small smile danced on Sam's lips as he dropped his face to plant a kiss on the top of her soft head.

'I think you're _perfect._ ' Sam corrected. 'From the very beginning, you have always made the kingdom a priority. All of _this_ is because you wanted to make sure I considered the kingdom at the same time as I considered my heart. You refuse to let me be selfish, but you insist that I think about myself. You balance me, Mercedes, as a leader, as a man, and as a future king. There is no one else I would want by my side.'

Tears began to slide unbidden down Mercedes' cheeks as she covered her face in her hands, knowing what Sam was building up to and wanting to take all of it in.

'But I'm getting sidetracked,' Sam shook his head distractedly and then fixed Mercedes' with a serious look. 'And I have this whole thing planned out so…'

Mercedes let out another wet sounding laugh and nodded, biting her lip to contain her happy tears as Sam knelt in front of her.

'You'd think I'd be less nervous the second time around…' Sam joked and took a huge gulp of air to steady his nerves.

'Mercedes Jones…' He caught her eyes and lost his voice, his thoughts flying out of his head as he got lost in her. Everything she was - her determination, her softness, her strength and her kindness - was perfect. Even the parts that weren't - _especially_ the parts that weren't, Sam reasoned, but there was also the way she was with his siblings, Sam thought to himself, his heart swelling at the thought of her. And there was the way she'd found him - the real him - in amongst the title and the customs and the grandeur, she'd found _him,_ and she'd helped him find himself.

'I love you.' Sam smiled, his own eyes getting misty as he took Mercedes' hand in his and placed a kiss on her knuckles. 'I had a speech but… all the fancy words and the promises… all of it… all it comes down to is this: that I love you, Mercedes. And I will love you for the rest of my life. Whatever happens, wherever I go, it will _always_ be you.' He took another shaky breath and licked his lips. 'Will you marry me?'

Mercedes answer was to fling her arms around Sam's neck and pull him to her to press her lips to his, her entire body pressing soft and insistent against his, as he anchored her to him with an arm around her waist.

'So was that a yes?' he breathed several minutes later, and Mercedes blushed and buried her head in his shirtfront at the realisation that she'd completely bypassed that part.

'Yes.'

She looked up into his eyes, dazed as they were, and made sure he could see the conviction in her eyes. '1000% yes.'

Sam tried to contain his joy, he really did, but he couldn't help the loud whoop that escaped him, and he may, or may not have punched the air. 'Oh, I almost forgot!'

Shifting his weight, Sam used his free hand to reach into his pocket and pulled out a worn looking velvet ring box.

'This was my Great, Great Grandmother's.' he explained, flipping the box open and sliding the ring onto Mercedes' finger. 'on my Dad's side.' he elaborated. 'She became Queen at 16, and refused to marry for anything other than love.' Raising her hand to his lips, Sam kissed the hand that now held the sparkling diamond and sapphire engagement ring. 'I think she would have liked you.'

Sam watched as Mercedes took a second to admire the glittering diamonds on her hand and then set about distracting her with neck kisses until she gave in and pulled him close again. Sam happily obliged, only too pleased to get started on his promise to make his Lark a very, very happy woman.

/

'Do you have it?' Melissa didn't bother with pleasantries when the short man sat down beside her on the park bench, his breathing heavy as he pushed his thick rimmed glasses up his nose.

'Yes.'

'Then give it to me.'

'Not so fast.' The man turned to waggle his eyebrows at Melissa, but quickly thought better of it when he caught the furious glint in the woman's eyes. Jacob Ben Israel gulped, but tried to look nonplussed as he shrugged and pushed his thick framed glasses further up the bridge of his nose.  
'Well, I- I want my payment first.'

Melissa rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to throttle the little twerp she'd found to do the job Mike had turned down. It hadn't been hard this time, she'd just learned from her mistakes and picked someone with no morals. But now he was being _difficult._

'Don't get cute with me, Ben Israel. I transferred the money this morning and I don't have time to play games. So do you have it or not?'

'Temper, temper.' Jacob tutted, clearly starting to enjoy himself as he hesitantly reprimanded her. 'You know the payment I mean.'

Melissa turned to look at him, her pretty face warped by incredulity as she searched his features for any indication that he was joking.

'You can't be serious!'

Jacob Ben Israel shrugged and pretended to gather himself to leave. 'Well... if you don't-, if you don't have it-'

'Sit down!' Melissa's voice was a command, and Jacob's butt connected hard with the wooden seat as his legs folded involuntarily. 'I am not having a good day.' Melissa explained with exaggerated patience. 'In fact, I'm not having a very good _year,_ so I'm not handing over anything else until I know it's been done. Are we clear?'

Ben Israel gulped again, sweating profusely as he tried to keep it together as he bobbed his head in the affirmative. He couldn't help himself, he'd always liked domineering women…  
'Wh-what happened to honour amongst thieves? Huh?' he asked, inching away from her though… just in case.

Melissa fought off the urge to rub her temples.  
'Neither of us are thieves, and I'm not convinced by your honour.'

Ben Israel paused for a moment, holding his breath before he nodded and reached into his bag for a file.

'It's all here.' He told Melissa, keeping the folder in his hand as he watched her desire for it light up in her eyes. 'Falsified police reports, copies of documents that have been hidden in her apartment - that place has shitty security by the way.'

Jacob wheezed out a laugh and pushed his glasses up his nose. 'Your girl Mercedes Jones is now a convicted felon.' Clearing his throat he hesitantly adjusted his glasses again. 'Now, I... I want what you owe me.'

Melissa's expression changed rapidly from delight to disgust, and she battled internally with herself before reaching into her purse with a grimace and pulled out a plastic wrapped package. Ben Israel's breathing went shallow as he stared at the ziploc bag in Melissa's hand, his fingers reaching for it involuntarily.

'The file.' Melissa prompted. Hating herself and Mercedes for forcing her to this low.

'Of course' Jacob held out the file at the same time as his hand wrapped around the soft plastic bag, and a second later the exchange was complete.

'Do you have to do that now?' Melissa asked, inching away from Jacob on the bench as he unzipped the ziploc bag and held it to his nose, his eyes closing as he savoured the aroma.

'Hey, they're mine now.' Jacob reasoned, zipping up the bag containing Melissa's panties and pushing it into the pocket of his coat. 'And I wanted to make sure you weren't trying to con me... but I can smell that you aren't.'

The look Ben Israel was giving her made Melissa want to throw up, so she resolved to take the file and get out as soon as she could.

'Oh! and I almost forgot the best part.' Jacob interrupted Melissa's thoughts with a broad smile.

Reaching into his pocket, Ben Israel pulled out a small, women's brooch made of polished white gold and amethyst stones. Holding it out in the palm of his hand, he watched eagerly as Melissa gingerly picked it up and examined it.

'What is it?'

'It's a brooch.' Jacob stated, raising one eyebrow patronisingly. 'The _better_ question would be _where did it come from?'_

Gritting her teeth harder, Melissa bit out. ' _Where did it come from?_ '

Beaming, Ben Israel rocked backwards and forwards on his heels like an excited child.  
'From the Queen' he explained carefully. 'It belonged to her mother.'

Raising her own eyebrow, Melissa shrugged and tried to hand it back. 'What are you saying? Why do you have it? If you stole that, please put it back. If she gave it to you, then I don't think I want to know why.'

Now it was Jacob's turn to roll his eyes. 'Don't you get it?' he demanded, taking the brooch from Melissa's fingers and flipping it over in his hands. 'The Queen didn't give this to me. I took it. And I'm giving it to you because you can make it look like-'

'I can make it look like Mercedes did.' Melissa caught on, staring at the brooch in his hands, dumbfounded.

'They'll all believe that she's a thief and a criminal.' Melissa continued, a small smile forming on her lips as the plan began to fall into place in her mind. 'The kingdom will be calling for her head.' her smile spread into a wide grin as she realised the beauty of it all. 'And the brooch ensures that the Queen will let them have it.'

/

Mercedes curled against Sam's side as they sat together in the garden, joy bubbling out of her mouth like a fountain as she giggled and showered Sam's face in another round of tiny kisses.

'I can't believe we're doing this.' Mercedes muttered reverentially, lifting bright eyes to meet Sam's. 'We are _actually_ doing this.' she said again, dropping her head onto Sam's shoulder as they leaned against the seat of the bench. 'We're getting _married_.' she couldn't keep the huge smile off her face as she said the words, her focus on their interlinked fingers in Sam's lap.

'I can't wait.' Sam smiled, looking at Mercedes with such love and tenderness that she blushed.

'Neither can I.'

Leaning forward, Sam tentatively brushed Mercedes' lips with his own, melting into her when Mercedes slid a hand along his chest and deepened the kiss. Taking over the lead, Sam kissed her until they were both on the edge of deliriousness and then moved his attention to the rest of her body, dropping kisses onto Mercedes' neck, collarbone and finally onto that sweet spot just below her jawbone. When Mercedes let out a little whimper of pleasure at the contact, Sam pulled back, his face flushed and his breathing laboured as his eyes met hers.

'So... are you sure you want to wait until the wedding day to... _you know_?' he asked seriously, his voice strained as he tried to ignore the pressing situation in his pants. 'Because-'

 **'MERCEDES JONES!'**

Lost as they had been in each other, both Sam and Mercedes started at the barked words being shouted across the garden, and instinctively Sam moved in front of Mercedes as they scrambled up, ready to shield her from whoever was charging towards them.

'Step away from the Prince, Miss Jones!' The voice commanded, and as the figure rounded a hedgerow Sam could see that it belonged to- _was that one of the palace guards?_

'What is the meaning of this?' Sam demanded. Frustration and a sinking sense of dread leant his voice extra weight as he felt Mercedes' hand around his tense at the intrusion.

'We're sorry, Your Highness.' the officer said, genuinely looking apologetic as he held one hand out cautiously towards Mercedes the way one might hold their hands out to a ferocious lion. 'But Miss Jones you need to step away from the Prince, Ok?' The officer's hand hovered over the gun on his hip, and Sam didn't have to see Mercedes to feel the panic radiating off her in waves.

'What is this about?' Mercedes asked, sounding smaller and more scared than Sam had ever heard her as she unlinked her hand from his and stepped away from him, her hands raised in supplication.  
'Why are you doing this?'

'SECURE THE PRINCE, NOW!' The officer yelled, waving a hand to direct his team as a group of armed guards quickly created a barricade between Sam and Mercedes, herding Sam away from her even when he made an effort to break through.

'SAM!' Mercedes' eyes went wide as the guard grabbed her raised hand roughly, slapping a metal cuff over one wrist and wrenching her other arm painfully behind her to clip on the other cuff. Once both arms were behind her, the officer linked a hand through Mercedes' arm and forcibly dragged her further from Sam.

'You have the right to remain silent-'

'Let me get to her!' Sam demanded, trying to push through the sea of officers to get back to Mercedes. 'LARK!'

'Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law-'

' _Sam!'_ Mercedes had tears in her eyes for a completely different reason now, and Sam felt his heart lurch in his chest at the sight of the officer manhandling the woman he loved. He could still hear the fear and confusion that permeated Mercedes' voice ringing in his ears long after her cry had died out.

'You have the right to an attorney-'

'I will find you!' Sam promised as the guard led Mercedes away, his harsh voice ringing out through the garden as he continued to read her her rights. 'It'll be ok, Mercedes!'

'If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.'

'I haven't done anything wrong.' Mercedes' confused voice could be heard floating over the tops of the hedges as she got further and further away from the clearing where Sam stood. The same place where, just a few short moments before, they'd been blissfully happy.

' _I haven't done anything wrong.'_

The last few rays of sunshine slid behind the horizon, as Sam strained for another hint of Mercedes' voice drifting back to him from beyond the garden wall, but there was nothing. Even the birds seemed to have been struck dumb by the shock and violence of the moment. An uncomfortable silence descended on the scene as the wall the guards had formed around Sam began to thin. Standing alone in the courtyard, in a place that had been the moment of his greatest joy just a few minutes before, Sam was left with nothing but a sudden chill in the air and an abiding ache that seemed to seep into his bones and weave itself into the fabric of his being.

Sam made several attempts to break through his armoured escorts to go after Mercedes, but every time he tried the guards would close ranks again. Despite his demands, no one would tell him why Mercedes had been taken. No one would even talk at all, until eventually the officer who had lead Mercedes away returned and gave the order for the officers to disperse.

Without the guards' hands holding him up, Sam sank to the ground, the weight of the exhaustion and devastation of the past few moments forcing him to the pavement like the weight of Atlas. All Sam could manage to do was to drop his head in his hands as questions raced through his mind in quick succession, over and over again. _  
_

_Why had they taken his Lark?_ _How he could get her back?_ _How could he keep her **safe**?_ and _How - how- **how** could everything have fallen apart so completely._


	26. Chapter 26

'Where is she?'

Sam entered his parents chambers like a whirlwind. He didn't knock - there was no time - although even if there had been he wouldn't have cared. He was pissed, and it showed.

'I'm not going to ask again!'

'Now see here! Who do you think you're talking to, young man?' The King sat up in his chair, gathering the papers he'd been looking over imperiously to his chest as he glared at his son over the top of his reading glasses.

'I _think,_ I'm talking to the people who had my fiancee hauled away like some kind of criminal.' Sam spat back, sparks in his eyes as he glared at his father.

'What?!' The King's eyes widened, and Sam was momentarily taken aback to note that his father looked genuinely rattled by the news. 'What happened to Mercedes?' The King demanded, setting his glasses aside as he rose from his chair. 'What happened to her?'

'What is all this shouting about?' The Queen emerged from a side room to shoot her husband a chastising glare. Turning to Sam, her expression first softened and then turned to one of horror when she saw the bruises on his face.

'Oh, my darling! What did that awful woman do to you?'

Running to him, The Queen attempted to press gentle, maternal hands to Sam's face, but he refused the contact, even going to far as to take a step away from her to increase the distance between them. Mary's hands fluttered in front of her like dying butterflies, her heart twisting painfully in her chest as she wrapped her arms around her own body instead.

'Are you truly going to pretend you don't know what happened?' Sam demanded, his eyes as hard as flint as he regarded his mother. ' _This_ is from the armed thugs you sent after my _fiancee_.' Sam told her through gritted teeth, placing heavy emphasis on the word ' _fiancee'_ as he gestured to his face. 'What cause did you have to put her through that? - To put us _BOTH_ through that?' Sam clarified, the memory of Mercedes' panicked voice calling his name clenching his heart like a vice. 'No, don't answer that. I don't care. Whatever reason you thought you had is wrong. Just tell me where she is.'

'Mary?' The King spoke the single word like a warning, and the Queen seemed to physically deflate as she regarded her eldest son.

She remembered how Sam's long fingers, now clutching angrily at the fabric of his clothing, had once been small fingers that had interlaced easily with hers. How the knuckles now white with frustration were once tiny pink miracles of things on the hands of her most precious creation. Her first borne, her heart.

He had rejected her, The Queen realised anew, the thought lancing fresh pain into every single cell of her body. He had made a choice... and it had _not_ been her.

The Queen's voice seemed to have lost its substance when she finally spoke out, as though the core that usually ran through it had been eked out to leave a hollow centre behind.

'I have only ever wanted to protect you, Sam.'

'That is not what I asked.' Sam's tone was commanding, as he batted her excuses away like a troublesome fly. ' _Where. Is. She?'_ he repeated firmly. He didn't want to hear about justifications, he just wanted his Lark back safe and sound.

'She's in Yearwood Keep' The Queen admitted after a moment, her eyes words directed to the carpet at her feet as she carefully avoided the disappointed gaze of her husband and son.

'She's _where?'_ The King demanded at the same time as Sam nodded and started towards the door.

'You can't see her.' The Queen called after him, raising her eyes in time to see the muscles in Sam's shoulders contract at the sound of her voice.

' _I'm not going to let you stop me_.'

'It isn't **up** to me.' The Queen corrected, a pleading note entering her voice as she watched Sam's back. 'It's the law, my darl-' Clearing her throat, she corrected herself. ' _ **Sam**_. She's being held on the grounds of suspected treason.' she elaborated. 'No one royal will be permitted to see her.'

'Treason?!' Sam let out a little incredulous snort of laughter, although he was far from amused. 'You really think Mercedes is capable of treason?'

'She has a criminal record!' The Queen insisted, finally finding herself on steadier ground. 'And a history of anti-Royalist sentiment.'

'Guess that makes two of us then, doesn't it?' Sam asked sarcastically shaking his head to dismiss the claims. 'It's bullshit.'

'Sam...'

'It's. All. Bullshit.' Sam repeated, looking defiantly at his mother. 'Mercedes isn't treasonous. And if she was really a threat to me, then she had plenty of opportunities to do something about it when I was sleeping next to her every night. But look at that! I'm still here!' Sam frowned and folded his arms across his chest, suddenly appearing every inch the future king his mother wanted him to be.

'Do I even need to ask where these reports come from?'

'They're on official record-' The Queen protested, stammering slightly in the face of her son's righteous indignation.

'And who suggested that you look into those records in the first place?' Sam asked, not needing to hear the answer when he caught the expression on his mother's face.

Sighing, Sam ran a hand through uncombed hair and allowed himself to feel a pang of regret for the woman who had given birth to him.

'I thought you would have known better than to be used as a pawn in someone else's game.' Sam told her softly, reaching up to graze his mother's cheek with the tiniest, most featherlight of touches before turning to leave.

'Sam, I-'

'I don't forgive you.' Sam interrupted before his mother could continue, he didn't turn to look at her.

'I can't. Not while she's not safe.' Emotion entered his voice then, choking his words and closing his throat as he continued to speak. 'I love her, Mother. I love her. And could no easier stop than I could stop breathing.'

Finally, Sam turned his head in his mother's direction, not enough to actually see her, but enough that she knew he was acknowledging her.

'You may relay that to Melissa Van Stratten when you next see her.' Sam allowed, 'And you may tell her one other thing' he added, 'You may tell her that she will _never_ be queen. Either I marry Mercedes, or Stevie will ascend the throne in my stead. Either way, she will not win.

/

Mercedes lay on the wooden cot in the cold, damp cell and tried not to let despair make a home in her heart. In the distance, she could hear the sound of water dripping onto stone and the heavy, rhythmic pounding of the guards' footsteps echoing through the hallways as they paced up and down the cobbled stones.

Sam would get her out.

Mercedes been repeating the phrase over and over again like a mantra ever since the palace guards had thrown her in the tiny room and locked her in, hoping that if she said it enough it would become true. _Sam would get her out._ She just had to have faith in that, and if she knew anything about Sam it was that he would stop at nothing until he had found a way to get her out. The only question, a treacherous part of Mercedes' brain whispered, was how soon that would be, and at what cost.

/

'Miss Jones, I'm not asking you a complicated question here.' The agent assigned to Mercedes' case pressed, looking like a weary undertaker in his black suit. 'All I want to know is if you've ever expressed dissatisfaction with the way the kingdom is governed.'

'I don't see what purpose that question would serve other than to get me to say something damning.' Mercedes countered, wishing that _someone_ would just tell her what the hell was going on.

'Is that an admission?' The agent queried - he hadn't bothered to introduce himself when he'd come in. Mercedes couldn't tell if that was because he thought she was guilty, or if he wanted to protect himself from Sam's wrath because he thought she was innocent.

' _Everybody_ who's poor has expressed dissatisfaction at some point.' Mercedes answered truthfully, 'That doesn't make them a threat.'

'Are you part of some kind of anti-authoritarian cell?' The agent pressed, and Mercedes felt her chest constrict with frustration.

' _No.'_

'These documents...' The agent pushed an open manila folder towards Mercedes across the steel tabletop, 'were found in your possession. Would you tell me about them?'

Mercedes extended a hand, keeping the other wrapped around her body to pull the documents the rest of the distance towards her.

'I-I've never seen these before.' she stammered, staring at the unfamiliar documents in front of her. 'These aren't mine.'

'They were found in your possession.'

' _But they aren't mine_.'

'Are you suggesting someone planted the _extensive_ evidence we have against you?' The agent's voice was practically dripping with condescension. 'Alright, Miss Jones. I'll play along. Why don't you tell me who else had access to your living space?' The agent dropped his head back down to study the files on the table, his lack of interest in her answer clear.

'Well... um, my roommates, I guess...' Mercedes hedged, not wanting to bring her friends any further into this than they already would be - even if she did want to clear her own name. 'Our landlord, William Schuester. Um, Puck - Noah Puckerman - is there a lot, he's subletting from me right now... Prince Samuel _, obviously_...' Mercedes hurried on when the agent visibly bristled at the name. 'Joe and Finn - Sam's security detail...' Mercedes bit her lip as she tried to think about who else had entered her home over the past few months. 'Um... I think that's it, but honestly our apartment really isn't all that secure. We keep trying to get Schuester to upgrade our locks and put working cameras in the hallways but he never does - probably anyone could get in if they really wanted to.'

The agent's expression didn't change as he regarded Mercedes stonily for a long moment, his eyes unblinking as he stood wordlessly, gathered up the file and stalked to the door.

'Do I get my phone call now?' Mercedes called after him desperately as he tapped on the heavy door and had it opened for him. 'When can I go home?'

Sparing her one last disapproving glance, the agent's eyes swept over Mercedes before he turned and walked away, the door clanging shut behind him.

 _Sam would get her out._

 _/_

 _'_ I don't understand why she has to stay in there.' Sam said with deliberate patience exactly sixteen and a half hours later, his entire body tense with the effort of keeping calm. ' _Or_ why I still can't see her.'

'Sam, we've been over this.'

'Dad, you don't need me to tell you that those charges are bullshit.'

'I believe they are, son -'

' _Well_ then!'

'But there is a lot of evidence to suggest otherwise, Sam. I don't like it any more than you do, but until we can prove it's falsified it just isn't considered safe-'

'Not safe?!' Sam scoffed, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. 'Not _safe,_ Dad? Mercedes _lived here._ I shared a bed with her! She is _not_ going to hurt me-'

'I know-'

'She is so _incredibly **far**_ from being a threat! Why is my personal judgement not enough?'

'Sam-'

'This isn't right!' Sam exploded, turning huge, tear-filled eyes to his father. 'Mercedes didn't do what they're saying, Dad. Mercedes was scared to marry me because she was worried she wouldn't be good enough for the kingdom. Mercedesis the girl who makes elaborate plans to make sure our family doesn't get consumed by this job. Mercedes is the girl who continuously defends mother to me even after everything she's done.'

Sam shook his head before scrubbing at the dark circles under his eyes. ' _You_ know she didn't do that stuff. _I_ know it. Everyone who has ever _met_ her knows it.' Sam shook his head again, but this time seemed almost unable to stop as he fought to keep the tears at bay. 'She is the _best_ person I know, Dad. The absolute _best._ And the thought of her sitting in a cell somewhere, being treated like...' Sam broke off, unable to finish the thought that had been plaguing him since he'd been separated from her. 'I can't take it, Dad. I can't rest until I know that she's OK.'

The King dropped a comforting hand onto the shoulder of his eldest son, his own heart clenching to see his own in so much distress. Not for the first time, Dwight cursed the dictates of tradition and protocol that had caused his child such pain and set his mouth in a steely line as he made a promise to himself and to his son.

'We will get to the bottom of this, Sam. And someone will pay.'

/

'So do we break her out or what?' Tina asked seriously, looking at each of her friends' faces in turn. 'because I might know a guy.'

'That's terrifying.' Kurt announced somberly, and then frowned, 'Much as _I_ want to say yes to that, I know that Mercedes would one thousand percent say no.'

Kurt paused while everyone nodded.

'We just have to figure out how to clear her name.' he finished trying to keep his tone bright despite the gargantuan task they faced.

'Yeah, but how do we do that?' Quinn asked seriously, trying not to think about Mercedes sitting alone and forgotten in a dungeon somewhere.

'Well, you start by figuring out who has motive, and then you figure out who they'd be likely to turn to to get their dirty work done.' Puck supplied authoritatively, walking in from the kitchen carrying a mug filled with hot tea.

'We already know who had motive.' Sam chimed in, his voice crackling through the speakerphone of Puck's cellphone. 'We already know who did this.'

'Melissa.' they all intoned.

'Heinous bitch.' Tina added, and then looked around as though surprised that she'd spoken the words out loud. 'Sorry.'

'I'm not disagreeing with you.' Sam muttered darkly. As 'known associates' of Mercedes', Sam was forbidden from meeting up with Tina, Quinn and Kurt in person - because of the perceived threat - but that didn't mean he couldn't still talk to them. Puck was acting as Sam's emissary, allowing Sam to keep in contact with his allies without _technically_ contacting them. After all, _technically_ he was only calling Puck.

'I don't think any of us would disagree with you.' Puck agreed, and then frowned, 'but we still need to prove it.'

'Ok, so... what do we know?' Kurt began thoughtfully, 'I haven't found anything about Melissa being particularly techy, and this is definitely a cyber crime - at least partially.'

'That's true.' Sam supplied helpfully. 'But she always said that technology wasn't "classy".'

'She would know.' Quinn muttered under her breath, and then spoke louder. 'So she would have had to find someone to do it for her.'

'But if she thought it was a pursuit of the lower classes...' Kurt started

'Then how would she have found someone to do this?' Tina finished. 'She doesn't strike me as the type to hang out with people she considers lower than her.'

'She isn't.' Puck agreed. 'So how would she have come into contact with them?'

'Charity work?' Quinn supplied speculatively, 'School?... College? She probably wouldn't have hung out with them but surely you guys had scholarship kids or _something?'_

There was a long pause before both Sam and Puck spoke at the same time.

'Rutherford.'

/

'I know it's hard, but it _is_ for the best, Your Highness.'

The Queen turned hooded eyes to the woman by her side and revised her earlier estimations. Melissa wasn't as easy to figure out as the Queen had at first thought. In fact, as time went on the Queen realised that she really didn't understand Melissa at all. If the woman was playing a game, then Mary was no longer sure of the motive. Sam had made it clear that he would never marry the woman, so what more could she have to gain?

'He will _never_ forgive me.' She told Melissa after another moment had passed, turning away from the young woman The Queen paused to gravely study the papers on her polished mahogany desk. 'If I do what you suggest, then my son may never speak to me again.'

'But he'll be _safe_.' Melissa reminded her gently. 'He'll be angry, yes, but he'll be alive.'

'You really think this woman is violent?' The Queen's eyes narrowed as she turned to regard Melissa again. 'He's already let down his guard around her. If she had wanted him dead then he would be.' Letting out a small sigh, the Queen pushed the papers away from her and rose from her chair. 'No. I think... I think she truly loves him. For all the good it has done her.'

'Or she's just a great actress.' Melissa countered sadly, thick lashes lowered over downcast eyes. 'Growing up the way she did... she'd have to be.'

The Queen paused her hand trailing the corner of her desk and clasped her hands in front of her.

'And what do you hope to get out of this, Melissa van Stratten?' The older woman asked, all traces of vulnerability in her voice gone. 'Samuel will not marry you now. If this is not to ensure you'll be Queen then what is it for?'

Melissa visibly recoiled at the Queen's words, and it was a few seconds before she appeared to find her voice to speak again.

'It is for _justice,_ Your Majesty.' For her part, the Queen thought, Melissa actually did look genuinely offended at the unspoken accusation leveled against her. In fact, the woman looked devastated.

'The moment Sam met... _that woman..._ I knew he would never look at me the same way again.' Melissa explained, her eyes sad as she studied her shoes. 'I am not a fool, Your Majesty, even though I'm aware that my pursuit of Sam may render me as such, but I know... I know he will never...' Something in Melissa's voice caught as her eyes filled with unshed tears. 'He will never love me.' she said, her voice shaking with resignation. 'But my feelings have not changed. As long as Mercedes Jones remains in this kingdom then she is a threat to Sam and to the Crown. If I can stop her then I must try, even if that means losing his regard forever. So when you ask me what I want, Your Highness, that is my answer. Justice is all I ask for, and it is all that I want.'

/


	27. Chapter 27

'Yeah, Melissa contacted me.'

Matt Rutherford ushered Puck and Sam through an expansive hallway into a large, expensively decorated living room.

'Can I get y'all a drink?'

After both men declined, Matt waited for them to be seated before sinking down into the opposite couch.

'I figured she was just trying to score brownie points for her bid to be queen.' he expanded with a shrug, 'you know, reaching out to the scholarship kid.' he shook his head and gestured to the room around him. 'Obviously I don't need it. I think that took her by surprise a little bit, you know?' Matt admitted. 'I think she assumed I'd be a criminal or something. She actually seemed disappointed that she couldn't help me in any way.'

Puck and Sam exchanged a brief look, both thinking the same thing - that Melissa wasn't disappointed for the reason Matt seemed to think.

'So is that all she wanted?' Puck prompted, and Matt nodded then stopped and tilted his head to one side as he thought.

'I mean, kinda,' he answered pensively, 'she hung around for a bit longer, asked about my friends, you know. If I'm still in touch with the people I used to hang out with in college - if I'm still in contact with the people I grew up with...'

'Are you?' Sam asked carefully, and Matt nodded. 'Some of them. I mean, some of them made a few bad choices down the road and now we don't see eye to eye anymore, but that's just life, isn't it. You don't stay friends with everyone forever. '

'Who made bad choices?' Puck asked, looking genuinely intrigued. 'Was it Karofsky? It was totally Karofsky wasn't it.'

'Puck!' There was a hint of warning in Sam's voice, but Matt just chuckled warmly.

'You know, I would have said the exact same thing back then.' the young man admitted, 'but it turns out he was just working through a few issues. He's doing great now.' Rutherford's grin widened. 'He's a sports agent now. He and his partner just adopted a little girl.'

'That's great.' Sam smiled, genuinely glad to hear it.

'If not Karofsky then who?' Puck pressed, leaning forward in his chair eagerly. 'Was it that other kid, Azimio?'

Sam let out a tiny sigh and turned to his over-eager friend, his voice just above a whisper. 'Please stop guessing.'

'I don't talk to Azimio anymore, I gotta be honest.' Matt admitted, looking sheepish. 'He's doing ok from what I hear, but he and I were never friends.' Matt shrugged again as if to say 'you win some, you lose some' and settled back in his chair again. 'Nah, most people from college I've lost touch with. But the people I was friends with from back home I'm still friends with now. Really it's just Mike Chang I don't see anymore,' Matt elucidated. 'But that was more his choice than mine.'

'Wait, what?' Sam said before he could stop himself, and then winced at the utterance - he'd been spending way too much time with Kurt. 'Mike Chang... that kid who used to come up, like, every weekend and hang out with the football team even though he was the year below us and a mathlete?

'I know. It used to take him hours to get there.' Matt's face fell at the reminder, his eyes taking on a hooded look as he stared at the ground. 'But you guys accepted him for who he was... He didn't really get that at home.' Mike smiled sadly and continued. 'Mike joined the military right out of high school,' he explained. 'He was smart, but he didn't have the money for college and his scholarship fell through. The army said they'd pay for his education in exchange for a few years of service. I guess it seemed like a good deal at the time... Anyways, after he got out of the military Mike was... different. Like... darker, I guess. We tried to be there for him, but it was like he just wanted to withdraw from the real world. Now I only really ever talk to him online.'

'Shit.'

'Yeah.'

'Does he have access to a counsellor or anything?' Sam ventured after the silence had stretched on for a while. 'If he wants to go.'

'He has one, I think.' Matt supplied, 'He speaks to her via webcam, but I think she's pretty expensive. I have no idea how he pays for it.'

 _Everything boils down to money._ Sam thought morosely. He _really_ needed to get something done about that.

'Thanks for your time, Matt.' Sam held out his hand for the other man to shake, and when he was finished Puck did the same. 'We appreciate you taking the time.'

'Not at all!' Matt smiled genially at them both as he escorted them back towards the door, 'It was nice to see you both again. It had been a while.'

'Too long.' Puck countered softly and Sam nodded his agreement.

'Hey, one more thing before we go...' Sam started, shoving his hand into his pocket. 'Would you mind giving us Mike's contact details?' Sam asked, gently adding, 'I'd like to speak to him again.'

'Of course.'

Sam and Puck were left alone in the hallway as Matt disappeared to gather the Mike's information.

'You remember how Matt hacked the university website our sophomore year to ask out that girl on the cheerleading squad?'

'Yeah,' Puck agreed, 'Except Matt only ever made solid Cs in Computer Science.'

'You know who I just remembered always got top scores in Computer Science?' Sam asked Puck casually after Matt had returned with the details and they'd said their goodbyes. 'Used to tutor Rutherford even though they were in different grades at different schools?'

Puck nodded, his mouth set in a firm line as he climbed into the driver's seat of their dark SUV.

'Mike Chang.'

/

'Were the armoured guards really necessary?' Mercedes managed to bite out, angry tears welling in her dark eyes. 'Or the handcuffs?'

Mercedes waved her bound wrists as evidence, and then rolled her eyes when the guards flanking her shifted into positions of high alert.

'What do you think i'm going to do?' Mercedes demanded of them, frustration forcing the tears onto her cheeks. 'Huh? _What is it you think I'm going to do?_ '

The Queen watched as Mercedes sank to the floor, huge sobs wrenching violently out of her dirty and bedraggled body.

' _You_ are the one who poses a threat to my son and to this monarchy.' The Queen shot out, shaking her head at the guard edging towards Mercedes' crumpled figure.

'I would _never_ hurt-'

'Yes, yes, I'm well aware.' The Queen interrupted, cutting Mercedes off before she could launch into an impassioned speech. 'Truth be told I'm having a difficult time believing _anything_ the evidence I've been shown suggests about you.'

'Then why am I here?' Mercedes asked, her voice surprisingly steady as she looked up at the Queen through escaped wisps of jet black hair. 'What threat could I _possibly_ pose?'

'You pose a threat to the way of things.' The Queen responded candidly. 'My son's utter devotion to you and your unexpected success at court has left many in the nobility feeling… _uneasy_. I have no doubt in my mind that the accusations and evidence against you have arisen for this specific reason. They want you out of the way, my dear.' The Queen explained succinctly, 'and as long as that is the case then you are a threat. The monarchy will not survive if popular opinion turns against us, and at the moment it is turned very squarely against you.'

'So you're going to - what? - let me rot in prison for a crime you know I didn't commit?'

The Queen shook her head sadly. 'Believe me, I actually wish it were that easy, but so few things in life are.' Sighing, the Queen turned and went to stand behind her desk, rummaging through papers until she came across the ones she needed.

'No. Unfortunately for you, Ms Jones, Treason is one of the few crimes that still holds the death penalty in this kingdom.'

Mercedes' eyes widened, and for a moment the Queen wondered if the young woman would toss up her accounts all over the floorboards, but to her credit, Mercedes seemed to recover herself before that could happen.

'I like you, Mercedes.' The Queen admitted unexpectedly, peering at Mercedes as the young woman climbed slowly to her feet. 'I know it may not seem like it. Admittedly at the beginning…' A tiny frown crossed the Queen's face as she stared at the papers in front of her, but it was gone by the time she looked up at Mercedes again. 'Let's just say that I have come to realise that while a title is hereditary, nobility isn't always in the blood.'

Sighing, the Queen sank down into her desk chair and reached for an expensive looking fountain pen.

'It isn't much, but given the circumstances all I am able to do is give you a choice, Miss Jones. Either you suffer through a public trial with an inevitable conclusion, and die at the hands of our admittedly flawed judicial system, or the charges against you can remain known by only a select few, and you may quietly leave the kingdom. The caveat being that you must cease any and all contact with those inside the kingdom, including my son and the people that you live with, and that should you return to the kingdom you will do so on penalty of death.'

The Queen paused for a moment so as to let that thought fully register with the young woman before her. Truthfully, even the Queen was not authorised to make this call, but given how much she had already put the girl through... how much poor Miss Jones had suffered through the Queen's own mistakes... It seemed the choice was the least she could offer.

'I have both orders in front of me on this desk.' The Queen waved the pen over the papers in front of her before looking up at Mercedes again. 'It is up to you which one I sign.'

'I offer you exile because I know that you are a good person, Miss Jones. I may not always have seen your value, but I'm wise enough to know that you do not deserve this when your only crime was to fall in love with my son. I have done all I can, but neither avenue is without its cost. Which do you choose?'

Mercedes felt all the air going out of her lungs for the second time in her brief meeting with the Queen. Her choice was no choice at all - either to die in ruin and shame, or to leave and never see Sam or her friends again. She couldn't even contact them. Whichever choice she made, she would be completely alone..

'Will I get to say goodbye first?'

The Queen thought for a moment, her pen dangling between her fingers as she mulled this question over.

'No.' she decided finally. 'I will, however, allow you to write them letters of farewell.' The Queen grimaced. 'I'm sorry, but I've already bent the rules more than I perhaps should have in giving you this choice. The idea is to make it seem as though you are dead. I suspect that no one will extend themselves enough to check, but even if they did so you would already be safely exiled and that would content them enough.'

'I understand.' Mercedes closed her eyes as a final tear tracked its path down the curve of her cheek. Keeping them closed, Mercedes took another deep breath and squared her shoulders before looking the Queen dead in the eye.

'I've made my choice.'

/

Sam pounded on the door of the address Matt Rutherford had given them and wondered at the legality of kicking the door in.

'Mike Chang!' Sam called out, slapping at the worn paintwork with the palm of his hand. 'Are you in there?'

Sam raised his hand to knock again and found himself staring into a pair of unimpressed brown eyes.

'Can I help you, gentlemen?' Mike squinted in the sunlight as he looked from Puck to Sam and back again. 'Wait, don't I know you?'

'We go way back.' Puck offered drily. 'Can we come in?'

Mike looked like he was thinking about saying no, but something like recognition dawned on his face as he looked between them again.

'Ok, yeah.' Mike allowed, stepping aside for the two men to enter. 'Come on in.'

/

'It's really not in my nature to disclose information about my clients.' Mike explained after Puck and Sam had told him what they were looking for. 'It's bad for business, you know?' Mike ran a hand through his hair for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past five minutes and looked thoughtfully at his closed front door.

'What is it exactly you think this Melissa person did?'

'Planted evidence against someone really important.' Sam supplied, his cheeks reddening like he was in pain.

'Yeah, I'm going to need a name.' Mike cut back before swiveling his chair around to stare at his display of computer monitors.

'We can't tell yo-' Puck began at the same time as Sam said:

'Mercedes Jones.'

Mike's fingers froze over his keyboard as he very slowly lowered them and turned around to face the two men again.

'Yeah, Melissa was here.' Mike supplied without any further preamble. 'She paid me to look into Mercedes Jones, search her background for anything suspicious, any criminal activity… that sort of thing.'

Mike ran a hand over a heavily tattooed arm. 'I'm in cyber forensics and investigation now, but according to _that client,_ my class makes me no better than a criminal.' he let out a humourless laugh and turned back to Sam and Puck. 'She asked me to plant evidence against Miss Jones, but I refused.' Mike sighed and turned back to his desk, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he spoke. 'I have no doubt the client did what you're saying she did, but I didn't do it for her.'

A minute later, Mike had Mercedes' files pulled up on his computer screen, and both Sam and Puck stood to read them over his shoulder.

'Who could have done this?' Sam asked incredulously as he read through the list of fabricated evidence. 'Can you undo it?'

'No.' Mike shook his head and minimised the screen again. 'This isn't on the internet. These are official government files,' he admitted. 'Which, obviously, Your Highness hasn't seen.'

When Sam nodded his agreement, Mike continued. 'The only way to undo this is to get her name cleared, and to do that you're going to have to find the person who _actually_ planted this.'

Sam sighed and ran a hand tiredly over his face. It felt like he hadn't slept in weeks, and just when he thought his quest might be over, it looked like it was just beginning.

'Luckily for you, I've seen this work before.' Mike was saying as he pulled up a file on his left hand monitor. 'The guy covers his tracks pretty well, but he has a signature style. If I pull up the work he's done then maybe you'll be able to track down some of his clients?' Mike suggested. 'You know... follow the money trail? This guy exists, after all. He's not a ghost.'

/

'Ok, so this seems pretty straight forward.' Tina announced as she stared at the notes Puck had made at Mike's. 'We just follow the money trail, track down some of this guy's previous clients and then use what they tell us to nail this guy down. We **will** find this guy.'

'What if the clients don't talk, though?' Kurt posited nervously, picking invisible lint of his trouser leg. 'What if we can't even find him? _What if_ we catch this guy and he gives us nothing and then we can't stop them from hurting Mercedes?'

'Whoa!' Puck interrupted, throwing a heavy but comforting arm over Kurt's shoulders. 'No one is going to hurt, Merce!'

'Except-' Kurt began, and then bit back his words, his eyes widening at what he'd almost said.

'Except... what?' Quinn asked, her hazel eyes fixed unwaveringly on Kurt's rapidly reddening face. 'Except _what_ , Kurt?'

'I didn't want to say anything.' Kurt began, looking at each of his friend's faces in turn. 'I didn't want to worry you. But it's... it's hard to carry alone.'

' _Kurt_...' Tina prompted gently, and Kurt nodded in resignation as he cleared his throat and folded his hands tightly in his lap.

'I was doing some research on it.' he began, his voice even quieter than usual as he studied his hands. 'I wanted to know how long they might keep her in there for... when there'd be a trial... _if_ there'd be a trial...' trailing off, Kurt swallowed and began again, the words flowing out of his mouth like treacle in his throat. 'What they're saying she did... It carries the death penalty.' he finally managed, a huge sob wrenching out of his chest as he acknowledged the truth in his own words. 'They're going to kill her.'

For a moment, no one said anything, and then everyone spoke at once.

'That can't be!'

'Over my dead body!'

'I have to call Sa-'

'ENOUGH!' Tina's voice cut through the cacophony with a military-like authority. 'Ok, new plan. This happens now. Puck, did Mike say where this guy likes to hang out online?'

'Yes.' Puck disengaged himself from Kurt to rifle through his notebook for the relevant note. 'Right here.' Handing the notebook to Tina, Puck watched as her eyes flickered calculatingly over the page. 'Tina... What are you planning to do?'

'I'm planning to set a trap for this guy.' Tina announced, setting the notebook down on the edge of the couch. 'With me as the bait.'

'Tina!'

'That's too dangerous!' Kurt complained, shaking his head against the notion. 'Mercedes would _never_ want-'

'Well, Mercedes will be dead unless we nail this guy.' Tina countered, her temper flaring. ' Fast. Either we take a risk and maybe clear her name in time to save her, or we play it safe and they kill Mercedes in the meantime.'

Sighing, Tina sat down heavily on the couch and ran a hand through her long hair. 'If we had a choice then, sure, I'd take the safe option. _But there is no choice._ So whether you agree with me or not, I'm going to do this.' Tina looked at each face in turn, their expressions ranging from worried to steely determination. So are you in or are you out?'

Tina watched as one by one, the faces in front of her nodded their assent. 'Then let's get started.'


	28. Chapter 28

28 hours after posting her request for help with a 'sensitive issue', Tina had a reply from JBI.

'Are you sure it's legit?' Puck asked worriedly as Tina put on her coat and pulled her hair out from under the collar.

'Pretty sure.' Tina nodded as she grabbed her purse from the counter and looked expectantly at Puck. 'Mike said he's identifiable by his... unusual payment request.'

Puck folded his arms across his chest, his mouth set in a firm line as he stared down at the petite woman disapprovingly. 'Are you going to tell me what it is?'

'Nope.' Tina insisted, leaning over to pat Puck on one of his folded arms. 'You'd get mad.'

'I'm already mad.' Puck countered, watching as Tina pulled a tiny wire through her clothing and clipped it to her bra. 'One of us should be going with you.'

'One of you might be recognised.' Tina said with practiced patience - this was not a new argument. 'Besides which, Sam has Finn and Joe looking out for me. They're much more used to this kind of thing than you are.'

Grudgingly, Puck had to admit that she had a point. 'I still don't like it.'

'You'll like it more when we nail the sonofabitch.'

'Just so long as you stay safe while you're doing it.' Puck reasoned, concern softening his dark eyes as Tina paused in the doorway a dark smile on her face.

'Trust me. It's him who needs to worry about being safe.'

/

This guy was a wimp, Tina thought as she cracked the muscles in her neck and increased the pressure on Jacob Ben Israel's twisted arm just enough to make the small man whimper pathetically.

'Is there anything you'd like to get off your chest?' Tina asked conversationally, making eye contact with Finn, who was hovering a few dozen yards away and was looking at her with a new note of fear in his eyes.

'No?' Jacob wheezed, and then whimpered again when Tina rocked forward slightly on his spine.

'Are you _sure?'_ Tina asked again. 'Cause I think you've been feeling pretty cut up about what you did to a woman called Mercedes Jones recently.' she continued, tightening her grip on Jacob's arms behind his back, where she'd pinned them the instant he'd tried to put his hand on her knee. 'I think that kind of guilt probably keeps you up at night, right?' Tina asked as Jacob began to cry.

'Especially since they're going to execute her.' Tina went on tightly. 'Imagine if, after all that, it was discovered that you had the information that could have saved her and you let her die.'

Jacob whimpered a snot bubble into the grass under his cheek.

'Could you imagine the outrage?' Tina shook her head in sympathy for the Jacob Ben Israel of the future. 'That would be considered treason, you know? Which is ironic because that's exactly what Mercedes has been falsely accused of. Did you know that, Jacob? It's one of the few offences that still carries the death penalty.'

'It wasn't my idea!' Jacob squealed, trying to shift under Tina's knee to shoot her a plaintive look. 'I swear! I'm just the hired muscle!'

When Tina raised an eyebrow, Jacob coughed and added, 'The brain is a muscle...'

Shooting a small smile to Finn and Joe behind Jacob's back, Tina unpinned the small, squirming man and allowed him to roll to his knees in front of her.

'But if it wasn't you, then who?' Tina asked, her voice dripping with concern as she pulled a tissue out of her pocket and swiped maternally at Jacob's tear-stained cheeks with it. Beating back her own revulsion, Tina crooked a finger under Jacob's chin and tilted his face to look at her, trying to telegraph feminine grace and warmth to the sniveling man in front of her.

'Wouldn't you rather be the man who catches the bad guy, Jacob?' Tina asked softly, carefully choosing not to acknowledge Jacob's very obvious physical response to her soft, entreating voice. 'Wouldn't you rather be the _hero_?'

Jacob blinked up at the petite badass goddess in front of him and found himself nodding. He'd tell her anything she wanted to know for another glimpse of her gentle smile. Hell, he'd _do_ anything she wanted if she'd just touch him again... Jacob licked his lips and nodded again, smiling at Tina as he began...

'Where would you like me to start?'

/

'Proof that every single piece of evidence against Mercedes was fabricated!' Sam announced triumphantly as he threw a thick manila folder down on his parents' desk.

'And a pardon signed and approved by the Defence Minister.' Sam continued, his eyes sparking with happiness as he regarded his parents. 'All I need is your signature and she'll be out within the hour.'

The King practically leapt from his chair to sign the document, only pausing on his way to the desk to clap Sam happily on his shoulder, his relief was palpable as he signed the papers with a flourish and handed them back to Sam with a warm smile and sparkling eyes.

'You did it, son.' Dwight congratulated, throwing caution to the wind to wrap his son in a tight hug. 'You saved that girl. I'm so very proud of you.'

Sam felt the tears he'd been fighting back on and off since that morning prickle at his eyes again as he returned his father's embrace. He'd been so scared to believe that they'd done it. Even when he'd had the defence minister sign the pardon he'd still felt like it was too much to hope that they could actually get her out - but now... Sam allowed the tears of happiness to fall as relief washed over his body. She'd be ok, and they could still be together. It was the miracle he'd prayed for.

Both Sam and the King were so consumed by their own jubilation that neither one noticed the stricken expression that had darkened the Queen's face the moment Sam had entered the room. Silently, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to keep down the wave of nausea that had washed over her at Sam's words.

'She's gone.' Mary managed to croak out. Shame crawling over her skin like a thousand ants.

'I'm sorry?' The smile was still on Sam's face when he turned to look at her, but it quickly fell the moment he took note of his mother's small, defeated demeanor. 'Mother, what did you do?'

'This time I really _was_ just trying to protect her.' Mary promised, her eyes pleading as she looked from her son to her husband and back again. 'I thought about what you said, and I spoke to Melissa and I just knew- _I knew_ that Mercedes was innocent.' The Queen tried to explain in a rush as the colour drained from Sam's cheeks.

'But it was too late... and they were going to execute her.'

'What?!' Sam's entire body had gone rigid as his mother continued talking, but now he felt his legs begin to give way at the thought of what she was suggesting.

'Mother, please tell me she's not- Tell me she isn't-' Sam couldn't finish his sentence as he dropped heavily onto the writing desk chair, his legs giving out at the thought that Mercedes could be- that his Lark could be...

 _No._ Sam resolved, squaring his shoulders against the thought. _He would know. He was certain of it. If something had happened to Mercedes like that then he would have **felt** it._

'She isn't dead.' The Queen supplied after what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds. 'But she's gone, Sam. I'm sorry. I did the only thing I felt I could do.'

' _Mary,_ ' Dwight warned, looking at his wife with an expression of pure betrayal. 'Where is Miss Jones?'

'Exiled.' Mary breathed, clutching her arms tighter around herself as she tried not to see the devastation on her son's face. 'I offered her the choice, and she chose exile.' Rising, Mary disappeared into her bedroom for a brief moment before returning with a thick white envelope which she handed to Sam.

'She wrote to tell you goodbye, but-'

'Exiled where?' Sam growled out, his fingers wrapping around the envelope automatically as he studied his mother. 'Please don't pretend you don't know. Not after everything you've done.'

'I do know...' The Queen hedged, looking uncomfortable as Sam's eyes continued to bore into her. 'But it's not... I'm scared if I tell you you'll try and go after her.'

'Of _course_ I'll go after her!' Sam barked, at the same time as his father said;

'I think it's high time you let the boy make his own decisions, Mary. Don't you?'

Defeated, Mary nodded and closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them and returning Sam's direct gaze.

'She's in Andaloria.' The Queen's voice was firm and unwavering as she squared her shoulders and straightened herself to her full height. 'She's in the Lost Kingdom.'

/

'What do you even intend to do, Sam?' Stacie asked as she watched Sam throw clothes into a bag with little consideration for what he was bringing or what state they'd be in at the other end. 'We haven't communicated with Andaloria for thirty years. You don't even speak Andalorian.'

Sam paused from tossing things onto his bed to glare at his little sister, who had started to pull things out of of his bag to fold and repack them properly.

'I thought you were supposed to be on my side, Stace?' He asked, a little of the hurt he felt at her dissent sneaking into his voice.

'I clearly _am_ helping.' Stacie insisted, gesturing to the growing pile of neatly folded items beside her. 'Besides, pointing out the difficulties you might encounter isn't _not_ helping. It's just... it's trying to make sure you think this all through.'

Sighing, Stacie paused in her folding to look at her brother. 'You will not help her if you go in there half cocked, Sam. What are you going to do when you get there? How are you going to find her in a large kingdom that you know nothing about, when you don't even speak the language?'

'I don't KNOW, Stacie!' Sam exploded, flopping onto his bed with a groan of weary frustration. 'I don't know! All I know is that I have to try.' Sam raised both hands to cover his eyes and ignored the clothes being crushed under his body. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, Stacie thought as she watched him. He looked drawn out and pale, and not for the first time Anastasia wished she had some kind of magic wand to make all her brother's troubles disappear.

'This is all my fault.' Sam's voice was raspy when he spoke again, as though his voice had started to rust over with disuse. 'She'd never be in this position if it weren't for me, Stacie. And I love her. What else _can_ I do?'

Stacie sighed and carefully moved the folded clothes out of the way to wrap her brother in a tight hug.

'I wish I knew, Sam, but I don't have all the answers. At the very least take someone or find someone who speaks the language. At least try... Please?'

Sam nodded and disengaged himself from his little sister's embrace to sit up. 'We're trying. Puck's looking, but since our relations with Andaloria fell apart so long ago, no one speaks Andalorian anymore, and I can't wait forever to find someone.'

Stacie nodded her understanding. Although her heart ached with worry for him, Stacie knew deep down inside her that this was something Sam _had_ to do, whatever happened next. Not to mention it was _so_ romantic Stacie could barely stand it.

'If that's what you need to do, Sam, then go do it. I'll cover for you until you're on your way.'

Sam's words failed him as he fought and failed to find the right ones to express his gratitude towards his sister. Instead, he leaned down to press a grateful kiss to Stacie's hair, and then stood to resume his packing.


End file.
